The DiMera Legacy
by madelinehawaii
Summary: Tony DiMera awakens from a seven year coma to find Stefano has not given up his scheming ways. This version of the Salem Stalker includes characters from the past, as well as the current cast, caught up in a war that is quickly getting out of control
1. Prologue

_**A/N**: I began this story way back in October of 2004 when JER was still writing and twisting Tony's character (and everyone else's as well) until they were unrecognizable and along the way it has evolved into something more than I planned.__ This is the story of a feud. It is based on the clues revealed during Stefano's funeral back in 2002, along with nearly thirty years of the show's history  
_

_Also, in this story, Tony throughout the 90s was Tony (except for Aremid), and though the writers have changed this now (and I'm very happy about that) I'm enjoying the chance to work things out in this alternate universe, where the past and it's consequences cannot be swept beneath the carpet so easily._

* * *

Time: late spring, 2002  
Place: hospital room, Switzerland

Stefano opened the door to his son's hospital room and found Tony lounging in a chair he'd pulled next to the window. "Any more of that?" Stefano asked, nodding his head at the cup of coffee in Tony's hand as he dragged another chair over to sit down.

"Only the hospital variety," Tony said. He looked up at his father with a smile.

Stefano stared at him, hardly able to believe the miracle had finally happened and Tony was conscious, healthy, smiling with that sweet devil-may-care attitude he assumed so effortlessly. "You have no idea how wonderful it is to have you back again," Stefano said, his eyes dancing. "I've prayed every night that you'd awaken, be cured, and whole again, and just looking at you now gives me such hope for the future, our future."

Tony's expression sobered. "Ah yes, the future," he murmured thoughtfully, gazing out the window.

Seconds ticked by in silence. Stefano forced himself to sit patiently, knowing the folly of trying to push Tony after their argument the night before.

He'd rushed to the hospital after hearing that Tony was conscious but not quickly enough. Inventive as always, Tony had managed to sidestep the obstacles Stefano had left in place and discovered everything about Kristen's death as well as Stefano's plan to set John up for Tony's murder. The murder, of course, had been faked. Tony was already in a coma brought on by his blood disease, and nowhere near Arimed, but his replacement had died and John had been arrested for his murder. After digging up that bit of information, it had taken little imagination on Tony's part to determine who had been playing his double.

"Andre. You bastard," Tony raged at Stefano after the celebratory party in his hospital room had ended. "You dragged him out of that quicksand, and after you swore to me how you loved Renee. I know how you felt about my mother, but damn it, that monster has caused this family more misery than any satisfaction or revenge could possibly be worth."

"Are you sure?" Stefano had asked, assuming a calm demeanor and then a smile. "John suffered. Are you saying that does not please you?"  
Tony's entire face grew cold. "You've never given a damn about my pleasure unless it furthered your own."  
"Tony, Tony, Tony, please, this is a joyous night for me. You've been cured, and…"  
"You are not changing the subject," Tony snarled. "I want to know why." He pounded his fist on the table next to the bed so hard that one of the glasses dropped over the side and onto the bed, spilling champagne. "What on earth could have possessed you to save that man's despicable carcass?"

Stefano's own impatience at Tony's rudeness got the better of him and he snapped back, "Stop behaving like an idiot. The man was useful. You don't honestly believe I would keep him alive for any other reason, do you?" but Tony's bitter laughter left no doubt about what he believed would be his father's devices for Andre.

"You forget how well I know you father. What a convenience, to have Andre around the next time I stepped out of line."

"I promised you that would never happen again," Stefano said, shaking his head. "Have I not proven to you how much you mean to me? Why do you wish to spoil this moment by tearing open old wounds and dredging up a past that is gone?" He hesitated for only a moment, and then walked over and laid his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Andre is dead."

"Is he, truly?" Tony asked, jerking his shoulder away and stepping back. His eyes bored into Stefano. "What if Andre had not died that night, after he set John up? He'd still be living my life with your blessing."

"Tony, please…" Stefano began, but Tony shook his head in disgust and said, "Your daughter's murderer? If it had been my daughter, I'd have ripped his lungs out and left him to rot."

The argument had stopped when a nurse strolled into the room. She'd informed Stefano that as it was very late, she was sure he wouldn't mind postponing any more celebration until the next day; after all, Count DiMera still required rest in his condition. Stefano thought Count DiMera needed a time out period. He could see that Tony, who had moved over to look out at the city lights was still livid and purposely ignoring him. Perhaps the rest of the night on his own would bring him to his senses, but in any case, Stefano wasn't about to waste this opportunity. Tony's recovery was about to afford Stefano the chance to pull off a feat he'd only dreamed about and he wasn't going to allow stubbornness or old resentments to ruin his plans.

"Of course it is late, and Tony must not risk his recovery," Stefano said, ignoring Tony and picking up his coat. "I will be back in the morning. Not too early, I promise."

Tony had wished his father a good evening but Stefano sensed the fury that still simmered beneath the polite behavior and he smiled to himself. Such anger was not merely about Andre, or Stefano's motives. Tony believed Kristen was dead and Stefano knew that the person Tony blamed for that outrage was John Black.

"You're being quite patient this morning," Tony said as he turned back from the window to look at Stefano. "That always makes me suspicious."  
"Suspicion, guilt, lies; what nonsense it this when you have another chance at life? My God, Tony, you can do anything…"  
"Anything," Tony said, with only the ghost of a smile, "like get to know my new sister?" He eyed Stefano questioningly. "Another long lost daughter? You must admit, they come and go so quickly, it is difficult keeping up," he said with just the merest hint of sarcasm in his voice. "I suppose I ought to be grateful this time, at least Alexandra and I never slept together."

Stefano closed his eyes, struggling to control his anger which threatened to burst in a flood of violence that would destroy the plans he'd nurtured so carefully. He reminded himself how betrayed Tony must feel, by his wife, and John, and his friends in Salem who'd lied and schemed to help Kristen be with John, and now by his father. Stefano knew something of the emptiness that Tony must be hiding, and how desperate he would be to replace it with any other emotion. All Stefano need do was control his temper and point Tony in the direction of his true enemy.

"Well, naturally, you want to get to know your sister," Stefano said casually. "So, by all means, you should go visit her. Go to Salem. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to welcome you home with open arms."

Tony threw back his head and his laughter reverberated through the room though to Stefano's ears it sounded quite humorless. "I'm sure she will, and thanks to you, so will her husband. Hell, Abe Carver will be waiting at the airport right next to John," Tony said, his smile lopsided. "With a noose." He got up and walked over to pour himself more coffee and then returned to stand behind Stefano's chair. "Can't you just see John's face? He'll be drooling to get his hands on me and how much persuasion do you think Abe and Roman will need?"

"Don't be absurd," Stefano said a bit shortly. "All they have to do is test the body in your grave."  
"Ah yes, Andre's body," Tony said, not sounding convinced. "Tell me, what makes you think they won't suspect that you or I simply exchanged the bodies after I died?"  
Stefano looked up at his son. "Well," he said, sounding impressed, "you obviously learned more from me than you'd like to admit."  
"Oh yes, between you and Andre, I've gotten quite an education, but you didn't answer my question. Why should they believe me?"

Stefano played momentarily with the idea of telling Tony the truth but quickly thought better of it. Getting Tony to go along with him called for honesty in only small calculated doses, and only at the proper time, so sticking to his original plan, he said, "Use the hospital records. They'll prove you were here at the same time they believed you to be in Aremid."  
Tony still looked skeptical. "John will never buy it," he said walking back around his chair to lean up against the window frame. "The man is relentless. He'll hound me until he's made his own version of the truth a reality."  
Stefano resisted the urge to smile. "Surely you're not going to allow John to dictate your future to you," he said carefully.

Tony's eyes flashed in anger at his father and slamming his cup down on the table next to his chair he said menacingly, "That's enough. If John has a reason to want me dead, it was your doing and I can hardly blame him for that." He shut his eyes and shook his head impatiently. "You and your stupid games. They never end, and look who ends up paying; Renee, Daphne, Kristen, Alexandra," he said pointedly, and then laughed, "My God, even Andre got the short end of the stick this time. John, on the other hand, has everything he could bloody well want and I can only imagine the satisfaction he must feel knowing that he beat you at your own game." He stopped and shook his head again, slowly this time. "John and Marlena are my problem. I'm not interested in your advice, and I'm not about to allow you to meddle in my life. Is that understood?"

Stefano looked at Tony with genuine hurt. "Perhaps I need to remind you that without my meddling, as you put it, you would be dead."

Tony took a deep breath and folding his arms, he shot a look out the window before glancing back at his father, still frustrated. "I'm grateful, believe me. I know you are the only reason I'm standing here at all, but that doesn't give you the right to fix this for me. If John is going to pay for what he did to me and Kristen, I want him to know precisely who is responsible…" Tony paused, and for an instant, his despair afforded Stefano a bleak glimpse into the pit of Tony's soul. "He's going to be sorry he ever interfered in my life."

Stefano stood outside Tony's room calling his chauffeur. Inside, a nurse was checking Tony's blood pressure and temperature and had shooed Stefano out the door. "Maurice," he said, "I need you to bring my briefcase. Yes, fifth floor, room 532. Yes. Thank you." Sliding the phone into his pocket, he paced over to the towering plate glass wall on one side of the lobby and stared out into the city. How could he change Tony's mind? Stefano knew the letter would infuriate him but he also knew it would take Tony all of a few seconds to realize that Stefano ruined John's life specifically because of that letter. He couldn't afford to alienate Tony any further. What he needed was a lever; a piece of information that would either ruin John's reputation completely in Tony's eyes or make him realize that Stefano's assistance would be helpful. At the moment, the latter option appeared rather a long shot. Tony's memory was long. Learning that Stefano had once again replaced him with Andre had obviously allowed memories to resurface that were best left forgotten, like Tony's love for Renee and the torture Stefano and Andre had inflicted upon him for months as they used his identity to frame Roman Brady for murder. No, he had to find a way to make Tony's hatred of John so intense that Tony would jump at Stefano's plan.

After nearly twenty minutes of beating his head against the wall and coming up with nothing, he thought about taking a break and trying out the coffee stand on the next level down. Just then, Maurice walked into the lobby with the briefcase. Maurice inquired about Count DiMera's health and after a short exchange, he was sent to fetch two cappuccinos. Stefano sat and opening the case, began searching for the letter. Inside was his laptop and various papers, some filed in pockets and as he tried to remember which pocket he'd stashed the letter, he looked again at the computer. It was a sleek, expensive model, nothing like the first one he'd owned ten years earlier, but looking at it now, he began remembering Tony running into a burning plantation house to find that older model so that he could give it to John. A computer with John's past locked behind a password. Eventually Kristen had discovered the password, Stefano's pet name for her as child, and she'd read the secrets of John's past life. Stefano was certain that Kristen had only shared with Tony the information about John being a priest. Tony never searched the contents himself, at least not thoroughly. So, he wouldn't know if it contained the information Stefano was about to reveal to him about John.

Tony stood buttoning up his shirt as Stefano entered his room once more. "I wasn't sure if you were up to any more hospital coffee, so I had Maurice go pick this up," he said, setting a cup down on Tony's beside table.  
"Ah, thank you," Tony said, flashing a smile, and then with a quick laugh, "I suspect the hospital filters their brand through the dirty dish towels."  
Stefano sat back in his chair. "Did the doctor give you any idea as to when you'll be released?"  
Tony pulled the lid off his steaming cappuccino and took a careful swallow, and then another. "He mentioned tomorrow or perhaps the next day. And no," he said, blowing on the coffee, "I don't know what I'm going to do after that. I haven't decided anything yet," Tony said eyeing Stefano, and then the briefcase. "Do you want me to guess what else it is that you brought for me to see?"  
Stefano pulled an envelope out of the briefcase. "Before you make any decisions, I have something I think you ought to read first. Your mother wrote it."  
That got Tony's attention. "To me?"  
"No, no, to her sister, years ago…"  
"Which you stole, or forged," Tony laughed, the sarcasm evident in his voice again.  
Stefano waited for Tony to drink more coffee and watched him lean up against the wall. "I think after you read it, you'll understand that I would not make up such a monstrous lie."

Tony recognized his mother's handwriting, and felt a chill of unease as he slid the letter from the envelope. He sat down, uncertain and intensely suspicious as he glanced over at Stefano. No one knew better than Tony his father's power to manipulate a situation, to use every emotion and scrap of information true or false, every weakness, every conceivable doubt. Trust was such a liability in this family. And hadn't he discovered that the hard way, along with his sisters. He could still see Renee telling everyone off the night of that damn party, determined that she would survive in spite of all of them but when it came to Stefano, it was a lesson she and Tony had learned too late.

He looked at his mother's handwriting again and felt sure whatever information the letter contained, it was something he would rather not know. And why now? Stefano had obviously held the letter in his possession for years and deliberately kept it from him, so what message could his mother have sent to her sister that Stefano wished to reveal now that he was well again. "Now that I'm leaving," Tony thought to himself. He glanced once more at Stefano who'd left him alone and was standing at the window at the other end of the room. Cursing under his breath, he opened the letter and started reading.

He went through it twice. He hoped that maybe he'd missed something the first time, a word that might change the entire meaning, make it untrue, make it a joke. It was a joke he told himself, one of his father's demented tricks. There was no way in hell he'd ever believe that he and John were related, or that John was his brother. "My God, you really will go to any lengths, won't you?" Tony said.

Stefano turned to look at him and instantly saw the denial etched on his son's face. He waited.

Tony said, "You honestly expect me to believe that my mother would keep this from me? If she'd had another child, there is no way…" He stopped abruptly as he continued to stare at Stefano and then looked away.  
"Unless she thought he was dead," Stefano finished for him.

Tony was putting the pieces together and he didn't like what they added up to. Without answering Stefano, or looking at him, he got up and turned to the window. He allowed himself to imagine his mother writing that letter, terrified of what her husband would do if he learned she'd betrayed him and begging her sister for help. Imploring her to raise the son Daphne couldn't keep. How long had it taken for Stefano to learn of John's existence and fake his death? Tony couldn't remember exactly. He squeezed his eyes shut and berated himself for not following his first impulse to rip the letter up and burn it. Why? Why let him see the letter now? He pounded on the window in frustration. He didn't want to know this. John had deliberately screwed with Tony's life, done everything in his power to play on Kristen's feelings because John wanted her, and because Tony had the misfortune to share Stefano's DNA. It was not Tony's fault that John hated Stefano. It wasn't his fault that John had suffered because Stefano needed to work out his revenge against Daphne on her son, but Tony was the one who'd paid for Stefano's handiwork. Somehow Stefano managed to wiggle free as always.

Without even thinking, Tony whipped around and reaching his father in just a few steps, nailed him square in the jaw. Stefano stumbled, a hand flying out to catch himself but before he could find his balance, Tony shoved him up against the wall and pressed his arm up to Stefano's throat. "God, how I wish I could strangle you," Tony snarled at him through gritted teeth. "You should have to pay for this, for John, for my mother, for so many bloody things I don't even want to remember."

Stefano had rarely seen such fury or pain in Tony's eyes and though seeing him this upset was difficult, he knew Tony was the edge. Push him just a little more, Stefano thought and he'd agree to any plan that would destroy John. Tony finally relaxed his hold and turned away. Stefano breathed in deeply. He knew Tony wouldn't kill him but he'd lost his son once before and hated driving Tony's anger this way. It was a dangerous risk. Tony might renounce the family and leave. He certainly didn't need the money and he was no doubt standing with his back to Stefano thinking that his family was nothing but a curse.

After what seemed an eternity to Stefano, Tony asked, "Why?"  
Stefano closed his eyes. He knew Tony didn't expect an explanation about the past and what had happened. He wanted to know why Stefano chose this moment and Stefano was ready with an answer. "John knows."  
Tony walked over and dropping down into the chair, leaned his head back with a sigh. "Well, you do know how to make a person glad to be alive again." The sarcasm made Stefano wince. Tony rubbed his eyes and then with another impatient sigh he said, "I assume you're going to tell me how he found out."

Stefano glanced over at his son. He was taking quite a leap of faith he knew, after all, Kristen could have read Tony the file. He stalled a minute longer but unable to think of another way that would be as convincing, he took the plunge. "The information was on the computer you saved from the fire at Maison Blanche."

The stillness in the room reached the point where Stefano could hear his heart beating. He looked over and found Tony staring at him. His face was unreadable. "Let me get this straight. My mother knew. You knew. Kristen knew which means Peter also knew. And, she either told, or showed the file to John, which means that he and, most likely, Marlena both knew. Anyone else I'm missing who could have told me I had a brother?"

Stefano swallowed past his dry throat and said, "Well, I have no idea who John might have told, the Brady's perhaps. He's close to them."

Tony said nothing for several more minutes and then with a hopeless sort of laugh, looked up at this father and shook his head. "Wouldn't it be amusing if the one with the last laugh here is my mother." He smiled enchantingly. Maybe she switched us." Stefano's look of astonishment and rage was visible for only a brief second, but Tony had the satisfaction of knowing the jab hit home. He got up and headed over to the closet where he found a shirt and a pair of slacks.

"Where are you going?" Stefano asked, sounding worried as Tony walked over to the bathroom.  
"For a walk."  
"Tony, it's late, you shouldn't…"  
"Enough," Tony barked, slamming his fist against the wall. "You have said enough." He stood breathing deeply, feeling the adrenaline pumping through his body, knowing if he didn't get out of this room in the next few minutes he might very well hurt his father. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to hang onto the doorway.

Stefano didn't look happy, but he bit his tongue and turning around, walked back over to his chair and sat down.

The afternoon had progressed by the time Tony returned a couple hours later. He looked worn out, but calmer. In his hand he had a bag and after slipping out of his jacket, he pulled out a large bottle of his favorite Irish whisky. It wasn't what Stefano had expected. He watched Tony pour himself a double, add some water from the tap and walk over to join him. "Cheers."

"You didn't leave the hospital," Stefano said, looking at the glass.  
Tony chuckled. "No, of course not. Maurice picked it up for me and if you want to join me, you're going to have to call him and tell him to bring another bottle because this is most definitely a night for getting drunk."

Stefano raised an eyebrow. He debated suggesting that Tony's doctors might object to such behavior but it seemed that Tony didn't give a damn at the moment and would probably laugh in Stefano's face. "We need to talk about this."  
Tony looked at him. "I think we've done all the talking our relationship can handle for one day. Go home."  
"I'm not leaving you alone like this. You just awoke from a coma for God's sake Tony, you need to think about how important your life is."

Tony smiled and raised his glass. "Oh, that's very touching, Stefano, your concern but tell me, what exactly am I supposed to be grateful for at the moment? You? He shut his eyes and laid his head back on the chair. "You and your bloody secrets," he said, laughing and shaking his head. "Let me see, I have yet another long lost sibling, only this one despises me because, thanks to you, I can only imagine his life has been absolute hell. And," Tony said, glaring over at Stefano, "he thinks I tried to have him sent to the gas chamber."

Stefano smiled back at him. "I seem to remember it was you who bought a gun and invited John over so you could shoot him."  
Tony nodded slowly. "Yes, that was me, your son, the fool who believed all the damn lies you fed me about your enemy, John Black. You remember those stories, don't you father?" Stefano watched as Tony took a drink and leaned his head back again.

This wasn't going well at all, certainly not the way Stefano planned, and he could feel his own blood pressure rising. "Don't pretend with me. You want to make him suffer even more than I do"  
"Perhaps," Tony said, not looking up this time, "but then, he didn't steal your wife, only your mistress." An awkward silence continued unabated until Tony turned his head to look at his father. He was more than a little surprised he hadn't been slapped. In fact, his father's restraint at such a remark was so out of character that Tony's suspicions, which never completely disappeared in his father's presence, began screaming at him. "I'm sorry," Tony said carefully, glancing down at his drink for a second and then back at his father. "That was inexcusable, your private life is none of my concern and I apologize."

Stefano stood up and looked down at his son. "You were right," he said, without elaborating and then looking pointedly at the glass in Tony's hand, said "Be careful." He leaned over and kissed Tony on the forehead and left.

Once he was alone, Tony's anger and frustration nearly overwhelmed him. He no longer had any doubts about the letter. Stefano could have forged it, but the horror of what he'd done to John made too much sense considering everything that had happened and Tony understood for the first time just how panicked John must have been when he found Kristen intent on marrying a DiMera. Not that understanding helped, because there was no denying Stefano's assessment of the situation; Tony despised his brother.

He lifted his glass to take a drink but it was empty, so he set it on the table and leaned his head back. "God, mother. I never thought I'd be glad you were gone, but what a mess; what a god awful, bloody mess this is." He looked up at the ceiling and said, "Please tell me you didn't know John was still alive." Just considering the possibility and saying it out loud to himself stirred emotions he couldn't shake or ignore. He felt a tear on his cheek and brushed it away but another one followed and in seconds the rage burning inside of him seemed intolerable. "Why the hell didn't you say something," he yelled at the ceiling. Why didn't somebody say something, anybody; people he'd trusted and respected and cared about who knew that he and John could have shared more than the feud tearing them apart but they'd shut him out. Even Kristen.

But that was wrong Tony realized suddenly. Not Kristen, no matter how she felt about him, she would never have kept information so vital a secret. In fact, she would have told him in the hopes that he and John would have a chance to solve their differences, which meant whatever else was on that computer, it didn't include the truth about John and Daphne. So Stefano lied. But why? And why announce that he and John were brothers? Unless John did know, or Stefano planned on allowing John to find out, and just imagining this last possibility forced Tony's mind to clear with alarming speed, and he knew a moment of panicked desperation. Stefano figured to use him the same way he'd used Andre, as bait. Tony was to be the one who ruined John. It would be his father's idea of poetic justice, and though Tony admired its elegance, he was not about to allow Stefano to dictate the outcome of his relationship with John.

He got up and went over to pour himself another drink. A single this time which he took back and set next to his chair and stepped over to the window, staring down at the beautiful old city buildings, trying to calm his mind. What on earth was he going to do? What could he do? Talk to the ISA? And tell them what, that his father planned on getting him to kill his brother. Considering it was Stefano DiMera, the ISA might believe him, but they had a lousy track record where Stefano was concerned and Tony couldn't help thinking that this course of action would probably get him killed, or at the very least, locked away where he'd be unable to cause Stefano any more grief. And the same went for the Salem PD, in spades. Abe and Roman would never listen to him because John would be there on the other side, insisting Tony be thrown in the slammer for trying to kill him.

"Damn you," Tony whispered to himself. How he devoutly wished he'd never laid eyes on John Black. The memory of him standing behind Marlena that night at the carnival, eyeing Tony with such loathing, refusing to even shake his hand was like getting a knife in his gut; and Kristen. He shut his eyes. They'd barely started a life together when it was torn away from him, all gone and for what? Stefano's pathetic lust for revenge. Tony shook his head and laughed in despair, remembering Renee and his months in Andre's dungeon and here he was, all over again, stuck between his father and his brother. Why couldn't they wallow in this tragedy by themselves and leave Tony the hell alone.

"I guess I could leave," he said to himself in disgust as he reached for his drink. A tempting thought, but not one he considered seriously. He'd tried the disappearing act after Renee died and it hadn't worked, and besides, there was Alexandra. Beautiful, smart, married to the police commander and the last of the DiMera women. Tony wondered if she realized just how slim her chances of survival really were, none of the others had made it and he had no illusions that he'd be able to protect her from Stefano or whatever Stefano was planning, he'd done a damn poor job of protecting himself.

Taking a long drink, he rubbed his eyes that were starting to ache and sat down again. He wasn't ready to leave or risk his neck by going to the authorities and that left him with only one option; trying to beat Stefano at his own game. What a thoroughly depressing future, Tony thought as he stared at his glass that was nearly empty. He finished what was left and went to make himself another.


	2. Chapter One

Time: two days later  
Place: Paris

Tony stood outside the door to Anna's apartment, hesitating.

She'd sounded eager to see him on the phone and just hearing her voice boosted his sagging moral but he wasn't sure this was such a bright idea now that he was on her doorstep. For one thing, they hadn't spoken in years, and Carrie had no doubt filled her mother in on what had happened in Salem before Tony disappeared. Carrie adored John so Tony didn't even want to imagine what she thought of him right now.

And then there was Stefano. Carrie was a Brady and Anna was not only her mother but Tony's ex-wife. He worried that even a visit would draw his father's attention here and endanger the one person in his life he'd managed to keep safe, at least so far. Before leaving Switzerland, he'd played with the idea of covering his tracks but he didn't want to make his father suspicious, and disappearing from the hospital to see an old friend wasn't unusual behavior for Tony under the circumstances. Stefano wouldn't like it, but Tony didn't think he'd do more than throw a tantrum.

He just hated the idea that his life was not his own anymore and confiding in anyone was dangerous, especially someone he cared about. He hated second guessing himself too. "Damn it," he hissed under his breath, and pushed the doorbell.

Anna's maid showed Tony into an elegantly furnished room full of sunlight and bright colors and without inquiring, brought him coffee. It was exactly as he preferred, and tasted divine.

"Sorry, I kept you waiting," Anna said, breezing into the room from behind him and dropping a kiss on his cheek. "Tony, you bad boy, you," and then stopped and raised an eyebrow. "You are Tony."  
"That is not amusing," he said, looking up at her.

She was a dazzling sight, every bit as gorgeous as he remembered and he couldn't stop himself from mentally undressing her as she stood at the sideboard, pouring herself coffee. She'd cut her hair, but it was still a luscious blond. Not a speck of gray to be seen and she'd managed to keep her figure despite the temptations of Parisian cooking. He could barely control the urge to pull her into his arms and start kissing her.

"Of course, if you require proof," he said with a smile, "I'll be happy to oblige."  
Anna laughed with delight as she sat down with her cup in the chair next to Tony's. "If Carrie were here, she'd probably insist."  
"If Carrie were here, she'd want you to throw me out," Tony said, the smile disappearing. "And maybe she'd be right."  
"Tony DiMera, you stop that," Anna said, looking at him in real concern. "I won't have you talking that way about yourself, as though all of this were your fault. You didn't know what Stefano was planning and even if you had, you were sick, for heaven's sake. What could you have done?"

He didn't bother resisting the urge to kiss her this time, although only on her forehead as he got up and walked over to the windows. The view was spectacular but Tony didn't notice. "Even if I had learned he was up to something, I would not have warned John," he admitted to her. Anna waited for him to continue, but he turned around and came back to her chair and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. Her hair smelled delicious. "Let's not talk about this yet. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. You must know some ratty café where we can eat, and then maybe take a walk and you can tell me all the lovely things you've been up to, and all about Carrie."

Anna reached around for his hand and squeezed it. "Okay, I can be patient," she said sounding exasperated but making an effort to smile pleasantly. "And I'll have you know, I do not frequent ratty cafés. If you promise to behave yourself, I'll consider taking you to a very special one I found only a couple months ago."  
"You'd be terribly upset if I promised you any such thing," Tony laughed, as he breathed a sigh of relief. Just being in Anna's presence worked its magic on him and he could feel his mood begin to lighten a bit as he followed her out the door.

By the time they sat to take a break, they'd eaten a splendid lunch and walked along the Seine for miles until, complaining about her feet, Anna dragged him into a noisy park and filled him in on the last decade of her life complete with all the silly frivolous moments that other people got to experience daily.

Listening to her made Tony long for the crazy times they'd had together. She'd tricked him into marriage their first go around, and fallen for his murdering cousin, but she'd risked her life to save him from Stefano and without her infuriating stubbornness during that awful year, Tony thought it possible he'd have lost his mind. No other woman he'd ever loved was so maddening or irresistible, or made him so deliciously happy. And how tempting it would be to loose himself in her arms once again. Pretend the last few days never happened, that Stefano was dead and buried or at least uninterested, and John didn't exist at all and he was free to do what he wished and have a life like everyone else.

All of the sudden, he realized that Anna had stopped talking. She lay curled up on the bench studying him, a pleasurable smile on her lips that widened when she saw he was no longer lost in his daydream, and leaning over, brushed his lips softly with a kiss. He knew it was a mistake but he tilted her head back anyway and allowed his gaze to travel up to her exquisite eyes, sparkling with desire as sunlight dancing on an ocean surface, and thoughts of Stefano vanished. Gently, he traced the outline of her mouth with his finger and then sliding his hand behind her head, drew her into a tender kiss that slowly ignited as Anna responded with that extraordinary intensity, driving every other thought from his mind except the sweet taste of her lips, her mouth, her hands in his hair and caressing his neck, and too soon, the burning desire of his own body. Reluctantly, he broke away. His breathing was uneven as he opened his eyes.

"Let's go back to my apartment," Anna whispered in his ear as she nuzzled her face next to his.

Tony took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder at the other inhabitants in the park who seemed to be oblivious or purposely ignoring the display the two of them were making. He loved Paris. The people of this city had impeccable manners, at least in public. He kissed her on the cheek and said, "In a little while," and then slid back on the bench to put space between them. "I wanted to thank you, by the way."  
"What for?" Anna said, laughing.  
"This," Tony said, turning a glance to the park and then back to Anna with a graceful smile. "I can't remember the last day I spent so pleasantly. Kristen and I, we used to sit for hours in the garden and talk and…" He looked away with an embarrassed smile and said, "Sorry. I'm sure Kristen is the last thing you want to hear me talk about."

Anna responded with a flat, tight smile Tony recognized. She was gritting her teeth but after a couple seconds, she relaxed, and said, "We might as well talk about her, unless it's too painful, otherwise I'm going to have to avoid the subject all night and don't think I want to do that." She looked Tony straight in the eye. "Why did you marry her?"  
"You mean, why her and not you?"

Anna's smile returned, but Tony could tell this was difficult for her. The Anna he'd known years ago would have berated him for leaving her, for sending divorce papers with no explanation, but the woman in front of him remained composed, waiting for him to begin.

"I loved her, of course. You know me better than to think I'd marry anyone for convenience."  
"No, you wouldn't marry just because Stefano asked you to, but…" She thought better of whatever it was she'd planned on saying, and turned away to watch a couple of stubby toddlers who were kicking the air more often than the ball they were playing with.  
"Go on," he prompted.  
"No, it's not important."

Tony checked himself before he opened his mouth and said something else incredibly stupid. He had no right to be defensive with Anna. Whatever she'd suffered had been his fault and though he didn't know what he could have done to change it, the last thing he wanted to do was cause her any more pain.

He reached over and stroked her hair. "It's very important, and you're right," he said, with a nod of his head, "Kristen was more acceptable as far as Stefano was concerned, but it was my choice and if I couldn't be with you, I thought perhaps I could still have a family." He let out a grim chuckle. "You'd think after three marriages I would have learned that loving someone would just give Stefano another way to rip my life apart. I thank God I don't have any children."  
"Tony, don't say such a thing. I'd give anything…" Anna shut her eyes and Tony could see the tears on her face and hated himself.  
"Oh Anna, you should have listened to me when I told you it would never work."  
She dashed a hand across her cheek to wipe away the tears and asked, "Was that the same conversation where you insisted you'd never love me?"  
Tony smiled at her. "Probably." He swallowed hard and said, "I really did make a mess out of everything, didn't I?"  
"Well, knowing Stefano, I doubt he gave you much of a choice." She didn't say anything for a minute, and then, "speaking of Stefano, when did you find out?"  
"What, that he was alive?"  
"About him being your father. Isn't that the reason he tracked you down again?"  
"That was his story," Tony said with a brief smile.  
"But?"  
"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "At the time, I was still so furious after everything that had happened, even more so when I found out he was the one who paid Donavan's wife to set you up for that phony murder so he could get his hands on me, but he had a blood test he couldn't wait to show me as proof and when I sneered at it, he told me Daphne changed his blood type in Salem so I'd believe her story. He insisted I choose a doctor and hospital so that I could get my own test done. Of course the results came back the same as his, twice," he said, smiling bitterly, "so I figured I had to learn how to accept the fact and live with it somehow."

Anna hesitated a moment and then said, "So what's happened to change your mind?"  
"Oh, nothing I can prove."  
"Wait a minute," she said, thinking about what he'd just said. "Why would Daphne change the records in the hospital? If Stefano is your father, then you and Renee..."  
"Yes," Tony said quickly. "I know."  
"You think your mother would have tried to make you believe…" Anna shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense unless she used you to get back at Stefano."  
"If she changed the records," he said with a touch of impatience in his voice, "it was because she knew I loved Renee and she wanted to help me."  
"Then you think it's a possibility that she could have."

Tony shrugged his shoulders. The expression on his face was so lost Anna impulsively reached out to comfort him with a tentative caress along his shoulder. He scooped up her hand and closing his eyes, held it up to his lips and trailed kisses along her fingers. It felt heavenly but looking at him she couldn't help feeling anxious. She knew he'd been very ill and had skipped out of the hospital ahead of schedule, and considering all that, he looked healthy enough. His appetite seemed fine, and he'd dragged her through half of Paris on foot so he wasn't having any problems physically. His eyes, however, told a different story. Whatever he'd felt for Kristen, he missed her, perhaps not the way he'd missed Renee but it was there all the same, and then there was last night when he'd talked to her on the phone about needing to escape for a bit. She could only imagine he wanted to put distance between himself and Stefano after what she was sure had been a monumental argument about Andre. How thankful she was to have missed that. Just thinking about Stefano made her shudder and she still had great difficulty accepting he could have produced a son as wonderful as Tony. Whatever the old shyster had said or done this time, it was Tony who was suffering and she really wished there was someone who could just do them all a favor and shoot the bastard.

"Tony, tell me what happened. What did he say to you to upset you this way?" She waited for another minute, and then asked, "Is this about Andre, is he still alive?"

Tony turned her hand and planted a lingering kiss in the middle of her palm, and then placed it gently back in her lap. "Stefano swears Andre is rotting in that grave in Aremid, and I guess he could be telling the truth this time though, I'm not counting on it." He turned away to look out at the park. He was quiet for several long minutes, and then, "I need to tell you something and I'd rather you didn't share it with anyone else, especially Carrie."

"All right, if that's what you want," Anna said, beginning to feel apprehensive. She suddenly wasn't so sure she wanted to learn any more of Stefano's dark secrets or end up squat in the middle of some terrible game with Tony on one side and his father on the other. The last one had been hell; she'd been scared to death for weeks, and certain they were both going to die.

Tony turned around to face her. "Daphne had another child. I think that's why she took me away when I was small," he said, looking down with a frown. "I guess she thought she could hide the pregnancy, somewhere she hopped Stefano wouldn't find out because it wasn't his, or at least he's convinced it wasn't. Anyway, after she had him, she gave the baby to her sister to raise. Philomena Alamain."  
"Alamain. You mean Lawrence," Anna said, trying to remember what Carrie had told her about him.  
"No, his brother, or cousin, as it turns out, Forrest."  
"Forrest?"  
Tony looked surprised. "Carrie didn't tell you that Lawrence and John were brothers? She must have mentioned to you about John looking into his past."  
Anna's eyed widened in shock as she stared at him. "John? But that's crazy." She tried to swallow and realized not only was her throat dry but she felt intensely cold. "Stefano told you this yesterday? My God, why?"  
Tony's laughter was brief, but a welcome shot in the arm. "Clever girl," he said squeezing her hand. "My question exactly."  
"You asked him."  
"Well, of course I did, I…"  
"Tony, you're not buying this story. Stefano hates John, he'd do anything to destroy him."  
"Yes, he definitely hates him, but why? I spent nearly two years in Salem trying to figure that out the last time. I couldn't understand why he bothered with the man and naturally, he refused to share any information other than John Black was dangerous and hated our family, that John had spent years trying to destroy him."  
Anna didn't look particularly convinced. "What'd he do, show you a birth certificate, or hospital records, or something?"  
Tony shook his head. "No, a letter my mother wrote to her sister."  
"He could have easily forged that."  
"Yes, I even suggested that to him," Tony said, "but he didn't. Think about it, about what he's done to John over the years; doesn't anything about it seem, familiar? It certainly does to me."

Anna realized almost instantly what he was talking about, the secret dungeon in the penthouse where she could still see Tony chained to the floor. All those months Stefano and Andre kept him locked up as Andre assumed his identity because Stefano had wanted to him to suffer, had tormented him because Tony dared to tell the world that he was not Stefano DiMera's son. "Okay," she said, nodding her head slowly, "but that doesn't explain why he would tell you now. I mean, why not years ago? Why not when John and Kristen were involved?"

"Good question. According to him, John found out. He had a computer with a file detailing John's past that Kristen found down at that plantation outside of New Orleans, the one where he was holding John and Marlena. It's a long story, but allegedly the file included Daphne's secret and when Kristen figured out the password, she was able to read the file."  
"And Stefano thought you'd believe that she told John, and not you?"  
"God, I miss you," Tony said, looking at her with such admiration, that Anna blushed. "It took me a bottle of whisky and several hours of yelling at the ceiling before I figured it out."  
"Tony, what did you expect? It was a shock," she said, putting her hand on his knee. "You must have wanted to kill him."

The memory of Stefano's face shoved up against the wall and his own volatile rage threatened to unravel the minute thread of control he still had over his emotions. "Yes," he said, sitting back and running his hand across his face. "Unfortunately he knows me quite a bit better than I know him. I could see it in his eyes. The only bloody thing he's worried about is this psychotic game he's playing with John and figuring out how he can manipulate me into helping him." He laughed hopelessly as he shut his eyes for a minute, and then, "Haven't we lived through this before in another life?"

Anna couldn't help but laugh with him. He was right. The whole impossible nightmare was beginning again, only this time it would be John that Stefano tormented. And Tony, she thought with a dreadful ache. She didn't know if she could just step back and watch as Stefano used him the way he'd used Andre. It would wreak his life and hers all over again. She looked over at him and it occurred to her that perhaps Stefano might live to regret his attempt to control Tony. Only locking him up had worked the last time. Still, she hated this. "Not now," she said to herself as her eyes lingered on his face, and the ache got worse. "Tony, you've got to get away from that monster. Please, just leave...we'll go away..."

"Oh yeah, I remember how well that worked the last time," he said sarcastically, looking off into the park. Any other bright ideas?" She opened her mouth, but somehow he knew what she was about to suggest and he said quickly, "I've already considered going to Roman, and the ISA but there's got to be something else I can do. Jesus that would be like handing my life over the Marx Brothers. Why not just jump off a cliff?"

"What else is there?" Anna asked, wanting to shout at him. "You really want to play games with Stefano?"  
"It wasn't my first choice, no."  
Anna shot him a look. "I like to know what awful thing you did in a former life to deserve getting Stefano DiMera for a father."  
"Yeah, me too," Tony said, with a sigh.

Neither of them said anything for a little while. Anna gazed over at the toddlers who'd abandoned the ball. Instead they were rolling around on the grass with a dog nearly twice their size and her mind drifted to Carrie. She wondered how she was going to explain any of this to her daughter. What a mess Stefano had gotten them all into, and in desperation, she said "Maybe Daphne was right all along and he's not your father."

Tony frowned at her. "Excuse me?"  
"Just having a compatible blood test hardly proves anything, does it?"  
He didn't say anything for a minute, just sat, looking like he was thinking about what she'd said and finally, "I'm not an expert, but I think whatever they did was more extensive than just showing we were compatible. I remember sitting in some doctor's office while he tried to explain it to me for over an hour."  
"What about a DNA test? Did you do that?"  
"No."  
"So, what are you waiting for?" she asked him in exasperation.  
"Someone I can trust would be nice."

That pulled her up short, and she had to admit he had a point. Along with all his other eerie talents, Stefano was quite the magician and there seemed to be no limits when it came to his ability to acquire information. "You could trust Abe and Roman," she said, unwilling to give up.

Tony's laugh sounded thoroughly bitter. "Yeah they might listen, right after they toss me into jail for trying to murder John. No, Stefano fixed this quite neatly, I must admit," he said. Anna looked miserable and he reached over to draw her into his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes and tried to forget everything except the amazing sensation of having his body next to hers. "I lost my temper with him after he told me John and Kristen had known all along," he told her as they held each other. "I was just so incredibly furious that I didn't give a damn about the consequences. I wanted to hurt him in the only way I knew mattered, so I pointed out to him that my mother could be the one with the last laugh on all of us, that maybe she switched me and John. I don't know exactly if it's possible, but it worked. For instant, the look on his face was lethal."

Anna turned her head so she could see Tony's face. "What if neither of you belong to him?"

Tony's dark luminous eyes followed his hand as he molded it to the curve of her cheek and slowly worked his way down to her chin. His finger brushed her lips and he let it stop directly in the center. "If that is the case," he said, looking into her eyes, "I'm not going to do anything to confirm it. No DNA test. We both know what he would do if I could prove I was not his son."

With a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, she said, "You're going back, aren't you?"  
He leaned over and kissed her gently. "Not tonight."


	3. Chapter Two

Time: next morning  
Place: Anna's apartment

Tony woke to a pale and chilly dawn. His gaze drifted around the bedroom that was strewn with clothes and empty champagne bottles, a glass holding his cufflinks stood next to him on the nightstand, and over in the corner, Anna's heels peeked out from under the drapes. Curled up on what looked like the dress Anna had worn dancing was a pearl gray kitten with its nose tucked beneath its paw. Anna lay nestled up against him, her body warm and comforting and her breathing steady. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he eased back towards the headboard and propped himself up with pillows. Once he was comfortable, he gazed down at her face in wonder.

Angelic hardly described Anna, but here she was again, coming to his rescue. Three days ago he couldn't help but consider his miraculous recovery a cruel joke that fate and Stefano had played on him, and imagining another wrestling match with his father was enough to make alcoholism a genuine possibility, one had looked more inviting as that first day wore on.

But in a matter of hours everything had changed because of Anna. He knew he shouldn't allow it to happen, but it was already too late and he didn't care anymore about being practical.

Her golden hair lay spread out on the pillow and the touch of it brought back memories of the previous night as they'd stood undressing each other in undignified haste. He couldn't keep his hands away from her and as her gown slid away and she stared at him, her eyes devouring him with that mysterious air until he no longer paid attention to the voice in his head warning him to stop. Instead he threaded his fingers through her luscious hair and kissed her with burning lips along her forehead, and her eyes, and down her cheek to reach her lovely neck until she shivered. Pulling back he could see the desire in her eyes. She was the most intriguingly gorgeous creature, and he couldn't believe he'd stayed away from her for so long or that she'd even consider having him back, but there she was, looking at him with such delight and wrapping his arms around her, he drew her close.

"God, I was a fool, wasn't I?" he said with a wry grin.

She laughed at him. "Oh, we covered that ground already a number of times...now stop being such a stupid man," she said in exasperation, "and kiss me."

His last scrap of resolve melted away and closing his eyes, he leaned over and pressed his lips to that oh so velvety and talented mouth of hers, indulging in the beguiling taste of her until his senses had room for nothing else. Without warning, he swept her up in his arms, and as she slipped her hand around his shoulder and stroked his hair, he laid her on the bed and she pulled him down to join her.

"You know, it's amazing but I'd forgotten how cute you are in the morning with your hair all mussed up," she teased, startling him back to reality again.

She was wide awake and looking up at him with a grin. He smiled back and bent over to plant a lingering kiss on her lips before he slid down into the bed to join her. Smoothing her hair away from her neck he idly kissed it as she snuggled up against him.

"I never thought I'd feel this wonderful ever again," she said and he could hear the purr of contentment in her voice. "Tony?"  
"Mmm?"  
"You don't…I mean, what are you going to do about Stefano?"  
"For the moment, how about we pretend he's buried in a very dark place...perhaps a black hole on the other side of the universe." He propped himself up on his elbow and eyed her body as he moved the sheet away and gently began to run his finger along the curve of her breast. "I'd rather concentrate on you. I'm sure we can keep ourselves busy doing all sorts of things that don't require having to talk about my relatives."

She picked up his hand and kissed it. "Yes, but you're not staying, are you." It wasn't a question.  
Tony watched as she slowly nibbled kisses along his finger and then smiling like a Cheshire cat, drew it slowly into her mouth. "We'll talk about it later," he suggested, taking a deep breath. "Much later. Maybe at breakfast."  
She raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were going to have breakfast right now."  
"Oh, we are, my love," he said as he bent down to kiss her and stopped just inches away with an impish grin. "We are."

It was hours before they ended up sitting down in her living room to eat brunch. Anna sipped her coffee and gazed at Tony across the table from her, reading the morning paper as he used to do when they were married. She tried to remind herself that their life together had been anything but normal and then smiled, because of course that was more than half the attraction; he was dangerous, unpredictable and that made him by far the most exciting man she'd ever known. There just wasn't anyone like Tony. She had made an effort over the years to find someone else, but he'd ruined it for her when it came to men, and she couldn't even blame him. At least she hadn't ended up like Renee and Kristen. On an impulse, she said "What was Kristen like?"

Tony pushed the newspaper aside and looked at her in surprise. "You're not serious."  
"Yes. I want to know what you saw in her."  
"I thought we talked about that already," said Tony, picking up his coffee and gazing over the cup at her. "You know just as well as I do how relentless Stefano can be until he gets his way."  
Anna's eyes probed, not fooled for an instant by his cool indifference. "You said you loved her, and I know you. If you hated John so much you'd allow Stefano ruin him without even a warning, you must have been crazy about her."  
Tony looked at her with a frown. "You honestly want to hear me talk about another woman?"  
"Yes, well I'm curious," she laughed easily. "Come on, you know me, I just want to find out what was so…enticing?"  
Tony shook his head and grinned in amusement. "You haven't changed at all you know, still my Anna. You and that dreadful curiosity of yours," he said as he reached for her hand and leaned over to kiss it. "We're going to have to talk about that, by the way."  
"If you must, but not until after you've told me about Kristen," she insisted stubbornly.  
He glanced down at his empty plate. "I don't know that I'm ready for that just yet…"

But Anna wasn't about to let him off the hook. "You've got to talk to someone and you obviously didn't want to confide in Stefano and somehow I doubt Marlena will be all that interested in helping you at this point."  
"No, I imagine not."  
"Tony, come on. I can help."  
He smiled. "We both know that's not the reason you're doing this."  
"Yeah, I know, but you'll feel better if you get it out," she coaxed, making an effort to be charming, "And I promise I won't say anything obnoxious. Even if I'm not Marlena, I do know how to listen."

His eyes were still laughing as he rose from the chair but he brushed a kiss across her cheek before he walked over to the window where he stood for several minutes without saying anything.

He stared down at the city trying to figure out where to begin. How to explain a marriage that should never have happened and that led to so much misery and disaster, especially for Kristen. Tony knew that she'd convinced herself that John was the answer to her prayers and that he could save her from the DiMeras. No doubt John believed it too but it wasn't enough. In the end she simply couldn't outrun her childhood, or her father.

"I think the first time I saw her, she couldn't have been more than six," he said finally. "I remember it was the first time I came back to Stefano's house and there she was, this gorgeous child who Father dotted upon so shamelessly I always marveled she didn't turn out to be some horrid little brat."  
"You mean, like Sami?" Anna said a sarcastic edge on her voice.  
Tony turned to look at her. "Is she really?" He chuckled. "What a disappointment for John."  
"But you were living in Salem when she took John and Marlena's daughter and tried to put her up for adoption on the black market."  
"That was quite a while ago, she was young and pretty messed up."  
Anna's eyes grew hard. "Oh, messed up doesn't begin to describe Sami Brady."

"Considering her parents were missing for most of her life, I'm not surprised," he said as he pulled a chair over to the window. "Something else we can chalk up to Stefano." He walked over and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and took it back to the chair and sat down. "Speaking of parents, I always wondered what happened to Kristen's. Somehow I suspected they met with foul play and even if Stefano wasn't directly to blame, I figure he must have known or been involved."

Anna looked at him, surprised. "Didn't you hear about Kristen's mother when you learned about Andre? She was in that old house in Aremid. I thought Carrie told me she was the one who gave your…well, Andre's diary to Marlena or someone."  
"Yeah, I heard about the diary," he said laughing. "Only Andre would be stupid enough to leave a diary about planning a murder. God, Stefano must have been furious."

"Funny how he knew all about it," Anna observed as she poured herself more coffee and came over to curl up in the armchair. "Especially since he was supposed to have amnesia."  
"You weren't surprised," said Tony, and she could hear just the barest hint of sarcasm.  
Anna laughed. "No, I just couldn't believe Marlena fell for it, after everything she's been through with that man." She glanced over at Tony who was staring out the window. She couldn't see his eyes but he was obviously lost in his own world, reliving memories he'd shared with another woman.

Personally, Anna despised Kristen for the way she'd treated Tony; first for marrying him when she obviously loved John, and then cheating on Tony and ripping his heart out. And she hadn't stopped there. Oh no, once Tony was dead, she'd pulled every trick she'd ever learned from Stefano to hold onto John, all the while telling the world what a horrid person Tony had been. As far as Anna was concerned, Kristen's end had been quite well deserved, just not painful enough. She reached over and put her hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his own, squeezing it gently.

"I wasn't the easiest person to live with after getting the results of those blood tests," he began again finally. "Stefano and I, we barely spoke to each other. I suppose he realized I needed time and I have to say he didn't push, even when I was deplorably rude but Kristen, boy, she hated me treating her darling father with such contempt, and she made sure I knew it, too."  
"She had no idea about what he'd done to you?"  
"No, she was barely a teenager back then, and Stefano made it clear that she was not to be informed about anything having to do with his business or our sordid family history. I knew she'd find out sooner or later but well, you know, children need security," he said, his voice low and rather distant. "Unfortunately, for her that was Stefano."

"Until you agreed to marry her," Anna said, thinking back to what she remembered about Renee's problems when Tony first met her and how he'd fallen in love with her as he tried to keep her safe from Jake Kositchek. It didn't surprise Anna that Tony would wish to help Kristen break away from Stefano's control. Or that he'd learned to love her. Though it set Anna's jealous hackles on edge, she knew Kristen had been a beautiful woman and Tony never did anything halfway. He'd made a commitment and stuck to it, even after he found out that she'd cheated on him and just thinking about Kristen's betrayal heated up Anna's temper all over again. "What a conniving little piece of…"

"Anna," Tony warned, tossing a look over his shoulder. "You promised to listen, remember? And behave yourself."  
Anna smiled sweetly as she bit her tongue. "Yes, I did, didn't I?"  
"And I know what you're thinking but there's plenty of blame to go around on everyone's part for what happened, including mine," he said, setting his empty cup down on the carpet. "I suppose if our first wedding hadn't been interrupted, maybe things might have been different."  
"You mean the one over here where that gunman took a shot at you?"  
He nodded his head. "We should never have gotten married in Salem, I don't know how I ever let Stefano talk me into it, or why he would have wanted Kristen there in the first place, knowing John lived in town." He shut his eyes and rubbed them as though he were tired. "What a disaster waiting to happen. I just can't for the life of me understand what the hell he was thinking to send her there because he didn't want her with John. Hell, he had someone take a potshot at him before I arrived, as a warning to keep him away from her."  
"That's right. I remember Carrie called and told me someone tried to kill him. Wasn't there a woman who died?"

Tony didn't reply, but got up suddenly and leaned his shoulder up against the window. He gave her a funny look.  
"What?"  
For a moment his gaze was unfocused, as though he was trying to remember something, but then he said, "Maybe you're right." Anna's confusion must have shown on her face because he swiftly elaborated. "About Daphne, about me and John…no," he stopped and then, "No, it's too insane even for my father."  
"Are you talking about what I mentioned yesterday?"

He stood for quite a while just staring out the window but he couldn't get the idea out of his head now that she'd planted the seed. One unexplainable event after another suddenly began to come into focus in a way it never had before, and he couldn't ignore the possibility anymore. "What if neither one of us belong to Stefano? What if this whole stupid thing with John and Kristen was a game so he could have us at each other's throats?"  
Anna's face was skeptical. "You mean you think he sent Kristen to Salem on purpose so she'd meet John? That sounds kind of farfetched, Tony. I mean, how would Stefano make sure that she and John ended up together?  
"That's easy," Tony said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "One of the few traits the two of you shared."  
Narrowing her eyes at him, she said, "I don't think I want to hear this," but he continued on, his grin widening.  
"Stefano used to say that he could get Kristen to do anything he wanted by playing on her stubborn streak." He shook his head back and forth slowly. "I always thought there was no one as stubborn as you, at least when it came to certain things, but she was, uh...well damn close.  
Anna's smile was tight. "My, thanks."  
"Don't feel bad love; after all you never let Stefano use it to lead you around by the nose."  
"No," she said, with a sour look, "I saved that for Andre, and Alex."  
"Ah yes, and what a pair they were."  
"Yeah," she said, wishing she hadn't brought up the subject of Andre. "So you think Stefano manipulated Kristen into falling for John."

Tony's gaze drifted back to the window. "I never really thought about it before now, but Stefano didn't mention John to me until after I moved back to Europe....after Salem. I'm not sure I recall exactly when it started, a year or two before the engagement perhaps, but he began dropping hints about John, just enough to arouse our curiosity, and make certain we'd ask questions. And of course he made us drag it out of him, what we got anyway. The disgraceful tale of John Black, and having now read my mother's letter, I'll have to say he put on quite a performance for all of us, including Kristen. At the time, I thought he told her as a warning, but now...I mean you know how devious he is and I can't help but wonder."

"If you're right, he wasn't merely performing for your benefit." Anna said. She thought about it for a moment and then, "The way Carrie described her when she arrived in town, I wouldn't think she go anywhere near John after hearing something like that."

"No. Waving a red flag in her face couldn't done the job better. If she hadn't met John by accident, she would have sought him out eventually and even after she realized who he was it didn't keep her away for very long." He let out a soft short laugh. "He was a magnet."  
"Then what about that shooting in the parking lot?"  
Tony's smile was cynical. "The guy was no doubt instructed to miss. Thing is, Stefano made sure it was done in Kristen's presence. If he only meant to scare John away from her, he would have chosen another time and the more I think about it, I'm sure he wanted Kristen to be a witness. It created more sympathy in her mind for John."

Tony ran his hand across the side of his face. He didn't want this be true. There had to be something he was missing that would show him it was all in his imagination. He thought back to the day of the wedding when John had come to arrest Stefano but the old man had been ready of course and faked his death. Tony knew it was the only reason Kristen had gone through with the ceremony, but it didn't prove anything one way or the other. Neither did any other event he could recall. It all fit so perfectly, all the disjointed bits and pieces that had never made any sense before, but now they worked together and the picture Tony finally saw was a nightmare that made him queasy inside. He had few illusions when it came to Stefano. The one or two he'd carried with him vanished after his father ordered Andre to lock him up, but there had always been limits Stefano exercised when it came to his children. He'd loved Kristen, every bit as much as he'd loved Renee. Tony shut his eyes and wondered what kind of fiend this man was turning into that he'd destroy his own family.

"Tony."  
He eyes flew open to find Anna looking at him with concern. He tried to smile for her. "Sorry."  
"What is it?"  
"Just trying to determine when Stefano became such a monster," he said as he struggled to control the anger that was building inside of him. It took him a couple minutes before he was able to speak in a calm voice. "If he was pushing Kristen towards John, then I think it's possible that he staged the shooting at our first wedding ceremony. The gunman hit her instead of me, rather sloppy work for someone trying to get even with Stefano."  
"Maybe he was aiming for Kristen."  
"Yes, maybe he was and maybe it was on Stefano's orders."  
"My God, you don't really think he'd do that to Kristen, do you?"  
"We both know why Renee is dead."

"Tony, that's…" she couldn't finish saying what she was thinking, it sounded too horrible. She could feel her heart pounding with fear and said, "I know you didn't want to do a DNA test, but…"  
"No." His fist jerked against the window, startling her. "No test." But she frowned at him. "Oh, come on Anna. The only chance I have of figuring out what the bloody hell he's up to is to play along. Besides, he'd find out if I got a test done. I've got to have access to the family and their contacts, and as much as I detest the idea, I need to keep up this farce of a relationship with him."  
"And what if you get in over your head? What…" she stopped for a minute but then took a deep breath and forced herself to say it. "What if you end up stuck playing this sick game he's engineered to trap John? You really want to kill Daphne's son?"

Tony turned back to look out the window and stood for quite a while before he said, "To be honest, I don't know."  
"No," she said shaking her head. "No, that's not you. However much you hate John; you wouldn't help Stefano destroy him. I'm not going to pretend I liked the woman but I know how you felt about you mother, how much you loved her. You wouldn't be able to go through with it." She looked over at him in despair, and said, "Please, just go to the ISA. Talk to Shane. Talk to somebody at least."  
"And tell him what? Even if he believed me I have no proof, only my instincts. A hunch. He won't arrest Stefano on a hunch and even if he did, he wouldn't be able to keep him locked up. Then were would I be?"  
"Shane can help you find the evidence."  
"Before Stefano figures out what we're up to? Listening to Tony's laughter was painful. "Tell me, just what do you think he'd do if he found out, or should I say, when. Donavan might get lucky but I'd probably end up in some South American hellhole I didn't even know existed for the rest of my life," he said. "That is, if he didn't kill me."  
"And what do you think he'll do if he learns you betrayed him after you go back? At least with the ISA, Shane will…  
"What? Come on Anna, you know how this works. If Stefano kept me alive, he'd fake my death so convincingly that Donavan wouldn't be able to prove a thing," he said bitterly. "Anyway, he won't find out I've betrayed him unless I actually figure out what he's up to."  
"Oh, that's just brilliant." Anna looked at him. "Do you know what you're asking me to do, letting you go back there?"

"Anna, you've got to have a little faith."

"You...have the nerve to talk to me about faith after that letter...and those divorce papers?" Anna could hear her voice grow shrewish but she was too scared and angry to care. "After nearly twenty years of nothing...no word from you, not a hint of what the hell you were doing..."  
Already frustrated and on the edge, Tony snapped back at her. "What I was doing was really quite simply my dear, keeping you alive."

"Oh, how very noble of you," she sneered.

"And don't stick that pretty little nose up at me because you know exactly the way Stefano felt after the shenanigans you pulled and I couldn't bear to lose..." his voice broke and he sat breathing in short shallow breaths. An awkward silence followed before he tried again. "Yes, you're right. I've made mistakes and plenty of them but the point is we've done this before. We'll catch him." Anna turned away, but not before he saw the brightness in her eyes. Springing to his feet, he shoved the chair out of the way and in a moment was standing in front of her, taking her hand, and pulling her gently up into his arms. "Darling, please...now that I'm here, the last thing I'm looking forward to is returning to that insane asylum, but you know Stefano as well as I do. He's not going to leave us alone until he gets what he wants, which this time is my brother's head on a platter. Even if the objective doesn't bother me all that much, I refuse end up caught in the middle again. I won't be his damn puppet."

"You can't guarantee that."

He slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her into a passionate kiss, deep and warm and gentle, and she responded wholeheartedly. Just the closeness of his body made her feel easier and she desperately wanted to drag him back to the bedroom so she could forget what a ridiculous mess this was degenerating into with each passing moment.

Too soon for Anna's liking he drew back and gazed with a keen look into her eyes. "That is our guarantee," he said as a smile lit up his face. "God knows why, but even at our worst we've hung onto this…hell, I don't know… thread that connects us and if neither of us has managed to destroy it after all our antics, aren't you giving Stefano a bit too much credit?

Tears ran down Anna's cheeks and Tony kissed them one by one as he wiped them away. "We deserve a future without that bastard and his games destroying everything we care about, and I want it." She heard the determination in his voice which reassured her for a second, until he added, "All I have to do is slip back in and find the evidence."

Getting in would be easy, Anna thought to herself, but she wasn't so sure about whether he'd be able to get out, though she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud, or voice her suspicion that if he was right, Stefano had most likely caused Tony's illness for some reason of his own and that terrified her. She hated this but she knew she'd be unable to change his mind and as much as she found it hard to admit, she knew he was probably right, at least about the ISA. Stefano had eluded them for too many years. She leaned her head against his, feeling his silky hair on her cheek and tried not to imagine what could happen. "I'm scared Tony. I really don't like the idea of you going back there all alone. I want to help you."

He held her even closer. "I know I'm being selfish and this is totally unfair, and maybe…"

But she quickly put a finger to his lips. "No. Don't apologize. If you want to waste your breath discussing how often we've used each other, we're pretty damn near even. And," she took a shaky breath, "it's a useless exercise anyway," she said, her hand brushing his face softly. "I want you back in my life, whatever it costs." She used her finger to trace the edge of his face still unable to believe he was actually standing there with her, holding her tightly. "If getting rid of Stefano is the only way that will happen, then…I'll figure out a way to accept it." Both of her eyebrows arched as her eyes connected with his and she added, "Eventually," before she laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him as tightly as she could. "Just swear to me that when this is all over, he'll be dead."

Tony simply held her, and prayed he'd be able to keep that promise.


	4. Chapter Three

Time: several days later  
Place: DiMera household, somewhere in Europe

Tony stood at his desk waiting for information that was downloading to his hard drive when someone knocked on the door. He'd arrived home only an hour ago, but he knew Stefano wouldn't leave him in peace for long and if that wasn't him out there in person, most likely there'd be a servant with a message asking Tony to join him for a drink. Just what Tony needed being back in this house, a drink. He closed the laptop and opened the door to a tall, muscular young man he didn't recognize.

"Good afternoon, sir."  
"Yes?" Tony asked, making an effort not to sound impatient.  
"Your father would like you to join him in his study."  
"For drinks?"  
"He didn't mention that, sir."  
Tony laughed. "Of course he couldn't just pick up the phone," he said sarcastically which made the young man look a bit nervous and Tony reminded himself it would hardly be fair to take out his aggravation on this poor kid. "Yes, well please let him know I'm tired and I'll speak to him in the morning."  
The young man looked alarmed. "You want me to go back and tell him that you refused?"  
"That was the idea," Tony said, trying not to laugh again. "How long have you worked for Stef...my father?"  
"Long enough to know he's rather demanding about his wishes being respected."

Tony's humor vanished. "Not tonight," he snapped before he could stop himself and then closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. "Sorry." He smiled at the kid, willing himself to be calm. "Look, he won't be upset with you so you don't have anything to worry about," and he patted the young man on the shoulder and closed the door. He walked over to the window next to his desk and thought to himself that he should have stayed with Anna for several more days, or weeks, but then Stefano would have shown up in Paris looking for him which was the last thing he wanted right now. "Yes love, you were right," he whispered to himself, longing to be back with her, preferably in bed. He was tired and frustrated and he cursed himself for not being able to strangle Stefano and have the whole damn mess over and done with. He slammed his hand down on the desk and spying a paperweight, grabbed it and hurled it into the corner across the room.

"Well, I'm glad you waited to do that until after young Carlo left. And I have to say I'm shocked, you know better than to take out your anger on the servants."  
Tony turned to face his father.

Stefano stood in the doorway and saw immediately that Tony did not intend to apologize. "I'm relieved to see that you're okay," he said. Tony made no reply, just stared and Stefano had to make an effort to remain civil. "It is customary to greet your family when you return from a journey."  
"Worried about good form are you?" Tony said with a laugh. "You ought to be grateful I didn't come home planning to kill you. Wouldn't that have the neighbors talking, and the servants."  
Stefano did not look amused. "You're still upset. Evidently Anna's charms aren't what they used to be."  
Tony forced a smile onto his face and leaned back against the window. "Well, you've seen that I'm fine and gotten in your dig about Anna. Anything else?" he asked, wondering just how much of a tantrum he was going to have to put up with.  
"Oh, come now Tony. You left the hospital without even being discharged. You left no message, simply vanished. I was worried," Stefano said, with what sounded like real concern in his voice. "It took me several days to locate you only to discover you'd run off to find solace in the arms of your ex-wife."  
"I'm surprised you didn't show up at her front door in the middle of something."  
Stefano shook his head and looked at him with despair. "How disappointed Kristen would be."

"Disappointed?" Tony's eyes grew hard. "You're talking about the woman who married me and swore before God to be faithful and then slept with my brother? Oh no, Father. Kristen would hardly be in a position to sneer at anyone, especially me and Anna." Stefano's eyes narrowed and Tony instantly regretted his outburst.  
"What are your intentions regarding Anna, by the way?"  
"The same as they were a week ago," Tony said, trying to shrug off his irritation, "when they were still none of your concern."  
"Your health is my concern and if she's providing you…consolation, then by all means, keep seeing her. I'm just a little surprised you didn't bring her back here."  
"She wasn't interested in visiting," Tony said walking over to reach for the door. "Will I see you in the morning?" he asked courteously.  
"We're not done," Stefano said and Tony could hear the steely edge in his voice.  
"I'm tired Father. It's been a long day and since Kristen is dead and John isn't going anywhere in foreseeable future, I don't see why this conversation can't wait one more day until after I've had a decent night's sleep."  
"You've put this off for over a week already."  
"Tomorrow." Stefano didn't budge and Tony let out a sigh. "Look, I won't be slipping out the window later tonight to escape down a rope; no vanishing act, okay?"  
It took a moment but Stefano finally nodded his head. "Alright," he said and fixed his gaze on Tony. "I'll see you in the morning for breakfast," and then turned and walked away down the hall.

Tony swallowed and restrained himself from slamming the door. He had no idea how he was going to get through the next few days and keep control of his own temper. Just being alone and thinking about what he'd discussed with Anna was enough to bring his anger to a boiling point at which times he actually considered the unthinkable; murdering his father. He'd come so close in the hospital. With a sigh, he went over and poured himself a drink and sat down in the arm chair next to the fireplace which stood empty on this warm spring evening. He took a swallow and closing his eyes, let his mind drift back until he could feel Anna in his arms.

_They were lazily dancing across the front of her living room, near the windows. Paris lay spread out in the distance and soft jazz from a radio floated through his memory. Her lips teased him as they caressed his face and his mouth and then she'd leaned her head just inches away and opened her eyes and Tony could see them reflecting the candlelight._

_"Tell me I'm not dreaming," she said, running her finger along his bottom lip.  
He smiled. "And what is the matter with dreaming? It can be heavenly."  
"But I want more…"  
"I know," he said swinging her around, "you always did. More, more, more. And you shall have it," he said with a gentle smile as he kissed first the tip of her nose and then her lips with a tenderness and ease he knew would drive her crazy.  
She smacked him. "You're wicked," she said, laughing helplessly.  
He only smiled and pulled her down onto the couch…_

The rest of the memory slipped away as the faint ringing of an alarm seeped into his consciousness. He opened his eyes and listened to the quiet beeping for a couple seconds and then remembered the laptop and the information he was waiting for; his medical history. It had probably been altered in some way, but he had to begin looking somewhere. And after his conversation with Anna in her apartment, he'd begun to suspect things about his illness that alarmed him. Was it possible that Stefano engineered his blood disease? He needed answers, he needed to know what the hell his father was up to before Anna's warning came true and he was in so deep he'd have no room to maneuver and ended up as Stefano's puppet. "That won't happen Father," he said looking over at the door. He wasn't about to be used like Andre and then thrown away, not that his cousin hadn't deserved it after all the pain he'd put them through.

Even so, Tony couldn't get his suspicions about the man to die. Someone was in that grave, but he feared it wasn't Andre who was most likely hiding in this house somewhere, plotting with Stefano. Eager to cause more misery because of Daphne, he thought and glared down at his drink. "She managed to die on you before you had a chance to really wreak her life didn't she Father, so naturally you want to wreak mine, and Johns to make up for it. You…" He squeezed his eyes shut for a second and then got up to find out what was on the computer.

* * *

It was much later in the middle of the night that Tony woke in a cold sweat. He could feel his heart pounding. The nightmare remained horridly vivid in his mind and covering his face with the blanket did nothing to help it disappear. He'd been back in the Andre's dungeon with Anna. They were holding each other, trying to keep warm and optimistic even though Stefano appeared to be winning. Then the door had opened. Andre had come in and taken off Anna's shackles, all the while taunting his cousin about the fact that Anna belonged to him and he was going to prove it to Tony. Anna had looked appalled but Andre had just laughed and dragged her into his arms and forced her to kiss him. She'd screamed but Tony couldn't help her. He'd tugged on his own chain desperately trying to reach her but he was forced to watch as Andre hauled her over into the corner. He'd yanked her dress off her shoulder and turned to smile at Tony who was frantic. Thankfully, something made him wake up before it went any further.

He reached over to flip the light on next to the bed and getting up, went to pour himself a stiff drink. His hand was shaking as he lifted the glass to take a swallow. He leaned up against the wall, breathing deeply, trying to calm the adrenaline still driving his heart rate and told himself that it was only a dream. It had never happened. Andre had tried to get to Anna on the island but she'd tricked him and he'd never actually tried it when they were chained up together in the dungeon, he didn't have to, and besides he was dead now. He couldn't hurt either of them. "If he's dead," Tony whispered, hearing Anna's scream echo in his head. He finished the drink, poured himself a glass of water and got dressed, so he could go out for a walk. Going back to bed was not a possibility, and he didn't want to get drunk. He grabbed a jacket and opened the door.

"Is there anything wrong sir?"  
Tony looked at the burly man dressed in white sitting directly across the hallway from his room. "No, I'm fine," he said with a frown, telling himself he ought to have expected this from Stefano. "Just going out."  
"I see sir. Perhaps there is something I could get for you?"  
"A bit less paranoia would be good."  
"Excuse me?"  
"Never mind. No, there's nothing you can get for me. I'm simply going out for some air and since I'm sure my father's security measures are not lacking, I have no doubt that I'll be perfectly safe. If I collapse," he said with a straight face, "someone out there can bring me in."

He closed his door and started down the hall but the man was quicker than he looked and darted in front of Tony.  
"I think your father would rather I came along with you."  
Tony stared at the man who was a good half a foot taller than he was, and said, "No thank you," and walking around him, headed down the hall but realized at once he was being followed. "Oh, come on, this is ridiculous," Tony said, beginning to get angry. "And I'm not in the mood for this childish game of his."  
"I'm sorry sir but your father was very explicit. You weren't to wander off by yourself. He's worried that you might run into something unexpected, or even pass out in the dark."

Thinking about kicking the guy's feet from under him, Tony stopped and shot him a look. "And just who else could be wandering around that I would need protection from?"  
"I didn't mean that sir. He's just concerned because you've been so ill."  
"Ah yes, right. Well, uh…" He looked at the man questioningly.  
"Oh, Karl."  
"Thank you Karl. I appreciate the offer and I understand you're only following Father's wishes but I'm just going out on the terrace downstairs. I won't be wandering off anywhere so, a chaperone is really not necessary."  
"You won't even know I'm there, sir."  
"I doubt that."  
"Pardon?"  
Tony smiled. "No, I'm sorry," he said, thinking better of knocking the guy out.

Tensions between him and his father were already at the breaking point and it wouldn't help if he started thrashing the hired help. And there was an easier way. "I've changed my mind. Please…" Tony gestured toward the chair. "relax."

He returned to his room and shut the door, leaning up against the back of it. "Well Father," he thought to himself, "let's see what you're hiding." He threw his jacket on the bed and found a black sweater which he slipped over his head and then turned off the light.

Three or four rooms down should do it, he thought as he walked out onto his balcony. To his left, the neighboring balcony was only a short jump. He wasn't in the greatest shape but didn't have a problem and once across he checked underneath the railing up against the wall for the key that he hoped was still concealed from years before. The room had originally belonged to Kristen. Although Stefano had pushed for them to marry, Tony didn't like his father knowing every move he and Kristen made, especially in the middle of the night so they'd worked out another system. His fingers quickly discovered the small box and he opened it. The key was intact and breathing a silent thank you, opened the door. He hadn't been in this room since before he and Kristen were married and other than familiar items she'd taken with her, the room was exactly the same as it had been those nights the two of them had spent together. The atmosphere was as he remembered it too, shadowy. Only starlight to glow along the curves of her body and Tony glanced over at the bed half expecting to find her waiting for him but it lay empty, made up and deserted. He walked past it and through the bathroom quickly and into the bedroom attached on the other side that she'd used as a sitting room.

Now, he just had to slip out into the hall and a few feet into the next bedroom that he prayed would be empty. He eased the door open. Karl sat at the corner of the hall with his back to him reading a magazine, keeping an eye on Tony's bedroom door. Tony moved silently into the next room and found it pitch black. He located the light switch, and relieved to find no one lying in the bed, began searching for the bathroom that he knew would lead to another room, but as he noticed the doorway, his eye caught sight of an object that startled him. It lay on the nightstand. He walked over and picked it up and stared at it in confusion wondering what a picture of Roman Brady would be doing in this house. Especially this section that was reserved for only the family. Stefano would never have kept Roman prisoner here, probably not even on the premises, or Marlena.

He supposed it might belong to Alexandra but knew after glancing around that was wrong. This room belonged to a man. He began opening drawers in the desk which only contained blank stationary and the dresser full of clothes, a side table holding some books, and then both nightstands. The one where he'd found the picture contained among other things, two prescription bottles. Both were labeled with Roman's name. Tony tried to find a date but there was none on either bottle though the lengthy name of the medicine seemed vaguely familiar. He thought about writing it down when he heard footsteps and instantly assumed that Karl must have seen the light from beneath the door. He slipped the bottles in his pocked and turned off the light.

Without waiting to find out if Karl planned on checking the room, Tony found his way in the dark through the bathroom and to the door of the room on the far side. He debated momentarily about taking the elevator down to the basement level to continue searching but decided that he'd probably alerted Karl who would call for help when he discovered the room dark again, so he waited until he heard the other door open and then checked the hall. It was empty. Tony was outside the open door in seconds and with a glance at Karl's back, glided past and into Kristen's sitting room.

He was back in his own room before Karl knocked on his door. After Tony assured him and two hefty looking guards that he hadn't heard anyone, not a sound, they'd left. He knew they'd station themselves out in the hall for the rest of the night but it didn't matter, he'd take care of the situation tomorrow. Instead he leaned back in bed and studied the prescription bottles.

* * *

The next morning Tony was already on his second cup of coffee and scanning the financial section of the Times when Stefano walked into the conservatory. Thankfully he wasn't smoking and Tony watched him as he headed over to the tray.

"I'm happy too see you so alert," he said to Tony, as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Karl tells me you had difficulty sleeping and I thought perhaps you might not be feeling well this morning."  
"I'm fine but you're wasting Karl's talents on me. I don't need a nurse."  
Stefano sat down across from Tony. "Well, he's more than just a nurse…"  
"I don't need a babysitter either," Tony said, folding the newspaper and setting in on one of the empty chairs, "or whatever else you want to call him. And I don't appreciate being followed around in my own home."  
"I guess it wouldn't do any good to point out that you've been very ill."  
"No, it wouldn't, especially since you and I both know that's not the reason you're having me watched."  
"I'm just worried about you."  
Tony shook his head. "You're worried I'm going to disappear, which is a thoroughly tempting idea when you pull stunts like this," he said, frowning. "Speaking of which, getting Karl to follow me around isn't much of a deterrent."

Stefano drank some coffee and picked up Tony's paper off the chair. "You might be surprised," he said as he glanced at the front page. "Anyway, we had an intruder in one of the bedrooms last night, so you should be grateful he was there."  
Tony almost chuckled. "There was no intruder."  
"Yes," Stefano said, glancing up. "Karl told me that you didn't hear anything, but…"  
"It was me."

Stefano actually looked surprised, though Tony knew it was because he hadn't tried to conceal his actions. He had no doubt that Karl suspected him of being the person in the room and probably explained the entire incident to Stefano earlier though without proof, his father would have dropped it. Stefano leaned back in his chair and waited for Tony to explain himself, but Tony wanted answers.

"Who's in the room next to Kristen's? The one that used to belong to Peter."  
"No one. It's empty I think. And exactly what possessed you to go sneaking through the neighboring bedrooms in the middle of the night?"  
Tony sat back and folded his arms. "I felt like some air but that watchdog you assigned me insisted on tagging along."  
"Oh come Tony, it wouldn't have killed you. Karl is amazingly discreet."  
"Yeah, he looks it," Tony said with half a smile.  
Stefano's irritation got the better of him. "I can't believe you're being so obstinate about this, and climbing around on the balconies at night after just being released from the hospital," he said flashing Tony a look of reproach.  
"Perhaps you'd rather I left him out cold on the floor?"  
"No," Stefano said, with genuine anger, "I would not, but..."  
"What is a picture of Roman Brady doing in that room?"

His father's expression froze so swiftly that Tony knew he'd stumbled onto information that Stefano hadn't meant for him to find.  
"Roman." Stefano raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it belonged to Peter. I seem to remember giving him photos before he left for Salem, you know, those members of the community he should avoid when possible."  
"And he liked it so much, he framed it and put it next to his bed," Tony said, laughing. "Surely you can do better than that."  
Stefano sighed and looked at Tony with chagrin. "Okay. He was here in the house. Roman, that is." Stefano tossed the newspaper back on the chair. "For a few short weeks when he was undergoing a procedure and I had to be here for some reason or other. I knew what a risk it was, but…" He didn't bother to finish, just gave another halfhearted shrug and picked up his cup.  
"A procedure…you mean surgery?"  
"Yes," Stefano said.

He didn't elaborate and Tony sensed he wasn't going to get any more details. Surgery might explain the prescriptions but something about it didn't sound right. For one thing, Stefano never volunteered anything unless he had something to gain and even then, it never came this easily, not to mention, Tony couldn't imagine any reason serious enough that Stefano would risk bringing the ISA down on him by hiding Roman out in his main residence.

"Aren't you worried, him knowing the location of this house?"  
"He doesn't," Stefano told him. "His condition was such he didn't know what was going on and I would think you'd know me better than that." He waited a few minutes for a reply but Tony had gotten up and walked his empty cup over to the tray without saying a word and Stefano finally said, "So now that we've dealt with that perhaps we can get on with…"  
"We're not done," Tony said as he turned around to look at Stefano, "not until Karl disappears, at least from outside my door and wherever else I choose to go."  
"Tony, can't you just do this for my peace of mind?"  
"No. Either Karl does something else or I mean it, Father…I don't need your help and I'm getting a little tired of this touching display of concern you've developed suddenly. I'm beginning to think the person needing the nurse around is you."  
Stefano's eyes widened. "You're making way too much of this, you know." Tony simply stared back at him until at last Stefano said, "Fine. But if you pass out and end up back in the hospital, I'll expect you and Karl to be getting better acquainted."

"Like hell we will," Tony thought to himself and looked back at his father with a thin smile.  
"Now, I thought we were going to talk about John."  
Tony leaned back to sit on the edge of a table loaded with orchids and folded his arms.  
In a careful tone, Stefano said, "I understand how difficult this is for you, John and Kristen and then reading your mother's letter and…"

"Oh stop it. I don't want to hear about how much sympathy you have for me when it comes to John, or Kristen. My feelings are not up for discussion," Tony said in disgust, his face and eyes hard. "We did that already in the hospital last week, and if you're smart, you'll avoid it permanently. You want to help me take down John fine but my acceptance does not include listening to some charade you invented in the hopes that I'd think you give a damn, and if you can't live with this condition then I can save us both a lot of trouble right now."

Stefano stared at his son in disbelief and then said coldly, "You scurried quickly enough to your ex-wife for solace but I'm not allowed, it that it?"  
"After springing that letter on me," Tony replied, equally grim, "the nerve you have to sit there and…my God, how many times did I beg you to tell me about John?"

Stefano looked away. Obviously Tony's fury simmered very near the surface and though Stefano had purposely done everything in his power to aggravate the situation, for the time being, he was still Tony's only outlet. He waited until his own anger subsided and then pushed his chair back and stood up. "Yes, I suppose forgiveness will take some time but one day you'll see things clearer. You'll understand what I did and why," he said walking over to the tray where he set down his empty cup and then looked at Tony. "For now, I'll accept that you need space in order to deal with all this. Will that do?"

After gazing at Stefano for few seconds, Tony shut his eyes. This whole thing was going to be much trickier to pull off than he'd imagined. Just repressing his anger towards Stefano and forcing himself to keep a civil tone required a degree of self control that he'd never had to exercise with his father or anyone else. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be an alternative solution so, returning his father's look he nodded his head.

"Good, come with me," Stefano said, leading Tony out of the conservatory and through the enormous salon to a hallway. A few doors down was his study and once inside, he picked up the phone. He looked over at Tony. "More coffee?"  
"Only if it's decaffeinated."  
"Ah, Francine, good morning. Please have Carlo bring a tray to my study with coffee, regular and decaffeinated. Yes, thank you." Hanging up the phone, he opened a desk drawer and pulled out papers that Tony recognized to be some kind of legal document. "Let's sit down," he said walking over to the fireplace. "I want you to look at this." Stefano sat in a massive leather chair and held the paper up for Tony, who took it and began reading.

After just a couple sentences, he stopped and looked down at his father. "This is your will," he said as he glanced at it again and then eyed Stefano's face. "You're planning on disappearing aren't you? Again."  
Stefano smiled up at him. "You have no idea of what it's been like without you. What a pleasure to converse with someone whose mind is sharp enough to work out problems on their own. I get so tired of having to explain each and every detail."

Tony sat in the other chair and continued to browse through the will until he reached the last page. He handed it back to his father. "Another fake death,' he said with a dry laugh, "your specialty. And just what method did you think to use this time?" He paused as he waited for Stefano's answer but after a moment said, "Let's not use explosives. They're so messy and unpredictable and I'm always worried I might actually have to bury you. Well, the pieces anyway. Poison is much easier."

"John isn't going to believe I'm dead if we just use poison."  
"Oh for heaven's sake father, John isn't going to believe you're dead period. I could give him your body to dissect and he'd swear you're alive."  
"I've been thinking perhaps an automobile accident," Stefano said, looking thoughtfully into the empty fire grate. "We'd need plenty of witnesses and that way there would be a coroner's report and publicity in all the newspapers."  
Tony ran his hand across his face and shook his head at his father. "You know seriously, there are days I believe you are insane."

Before Stefano could reply, there was a knock on the door and Carlo entered with the tray which he set on the table between their two chairs, and then left without a sound. Besides the coffee there were scones along with Tony's favorite jam and a plate of biscotti. Tony looked at the tray and wondered what his father would do if he got up and poured himself a whiskey and soda instead. He sighed. "Okay, a car accident. Then what?"

Stefano grinned as he turned to pour himself a cup of coffee and added cream. "Well, after someone's death, there is a funeral of course."  
"Attended by all the grieving citizens of Salem," Tony said, dreading the event already. "That should be a barrel of laughs." He poured himself coffee and picked up a chocolate biscotti. "By the way, what about Alexandra?"  
Stefano was quiet for a moment. "I think she's been through enough for the moment."  
"Meaning what, exactly?"  
"Meaning, she doesn't need to know."  
Tony swallowed his coffee too quickly and coughed. "You want me to lie to my sister and tell her you're dead?"  
"Alexandra has been through an incredible ordeal loosing her son and I don't want her to have to suffer any more right now. She needs time to put her life back on track."  
"Of course she's not going to suffer after hearing that you've been killed."  
Stefano shot him a warning glance. "I'll decide what is best for Alexandra and what she needs to know."  
"Yes," Tony said and thought, _Here we go again_

"Anyway, you have more important problems, like keeping John occupied and his attention focused away from looking too closely into my death."  
"That should be easy enough," Tony said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. All I have to do is show up in Salem and nailing me will be John's reason for existence."  
"Well, that will only last until you're cleared of those charges."  
"You think so?" Tony shook his head. "No, I don't know what you did to that man but he's relentless and as soon as Abe and Roman are forced to let me go, he'll be even more determined to prove I'm lying than if I ended up rotting in jail."  
Stefano got up and took his will back over to the desk. "If you're right, that could be a problem."  
"Why?"  
"Because of this," he said, pulling a small box out of another drawer. "The key to your future."  
Tony watched as his father opened the box and pulled out a strange blue object that he guessed was supposed to be a key. "What does it open?" but Stefano didn't answer. "Father?"  
"Oh, I know you hate secrets, but I promise you'll know before long and I'm not about to spoil the surprise after all my time and effort," he said as he walked over and handed it to Tony.  
It barely weighed anything which is not what he'd expected. "What kind of metal is this made out of?" he asked turning it over in his hand and finding the back identical to the front.  
"I'll let you read the information on it later but you see, we need to keep John worried about something other than what's going on in the mansion."  
"Okay, how about Marlena?" Tony said, and then waited for Stefano to bristle.  
"Ah yes, Marlena," Stefano leaned his head back. For a few moments he said nothing and then, "I assume the plan would be to get John believing you want to steal her away."  
"I figure that's what he'll expect anyway considering I'm your son."

When Stefano ignored this comment as well, Tony looked over at him and saw that his father was sitting with his eyes closed and he began to feel uncomfortable. The allusion to Marlena had just popped out of his mouth. Though he didn't much care about John's feelings, he'd always considered Marlena a friend and she'd treated him with respect despite his connection to Stefano. He was aware she'd encouraged John to go after Kristen but Tony understood Marlena's sense of guilt, she hadn't done it to hurt him or because she thought he was like his father. Of course now, she probably despised him, but still he hated the idea of using her. And there was Anna. He could just imagine her reaction to such a plan and why wasn't his father objecting? It was just so out of character and the more he thought about it the more he wanted to kick himself for even suggesting Marlena's name.

"That might work," Stefano mused from his chair.  
Tony swore under his breath and wondered again what the hell was going on. "Oh, it would work, but do you really want John going ballistic?"  
Stefano turned his head and stared at his son. "Don't you?"  
"I'm just surprised you'd want anyone else near Marlena, including me."

His father smiled. "Tony," he said, sounding disappointed, "even you underestimate me at times but" he lifted a finger and then rose from his chair, "I have a gift especially designed for you to give to her." He walked over to one of the bookcases on the opposite side of the room and moving a book, pressed an object on the wall that Tony couldn't make out. The case opened to reveal a dark corridor and a large covered frame that was standing up against the wall. Removing the cover, his father stood aside. Tony left his chair to get a better view and after gazing at it for a while had to admit the portrait was breathtaking and Marlena appeared as radiant as he'd ever seen her though he was sure she'd been miserable when it was done. He looked at his father who was waiting.

"You want me to give this to her?"  
"There is another for you to keep if you wish and of course I have a copy."

Tony's gaze turned back to the painting and he fumed silently. Something was very wrong and he couldn't for the life of him understand why Stefano would push him towards Marlena. None of this made any sense. As he stood looking into Marlena's eyes, a peculiar sensation hit him, a flash of memory of himself lying in a bed but it vanished before he could pick out any details and he realized his father was staring at him and saying his name.

"Are you alright?"  
He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute and then said, "No, I'm fine. Just tired."  
Stefano's face wore a quizzical look. "Has this happened before?"  
"What?"  
"Well, I said your name a half a dozen times, Tony. At first I thought you were ignoring me, but you were so focused on her portrait and mesmerized by it as though you were somewhere else. Does it remind of you something?"

Tony shook his head slowly. He tore his eyes away from Marlena's and walked over to the fireplace where he leaned both hands up against the mantle. Within seconds his heart was racing as quickly as the night before when he'd woken from his nightmare only this was real. Or was it? After seven years of lying in a coma, how certain could he be of any memory? Practically anything might have been implanted into his subconscious to be triggered at the appropriate time, leading him to desire something he'd never even wanted before. And then it clicked. First Kristen, now Marlena. Another woman Stefano could use to tear him and John apart, _as if we needed any other reason to hate each other,_ Tony thought.

Of course, if the memories existed, real or fake, there was the possibility they could still influence his behavior. Just imagining that made his heart rate jump another notch. He turned to face Stefano who had closed the door to the tunnel and sat watching his son from a perch on the corner of his desk and for a terrifying second, Tony had the sensation that he was back in the quicksand and his father meant to enjoy watching him sink to his death.

_Oh Anna_ he thought as he eyed Stefano's crafty face. _I think you were right. I need help._


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N:**Martin Corville was an old friend of Tony's from before he arrived in Salem. They raced cars together in Europe and though he was never onscreen in Salem, I figured he'd be someone that Anna knew from when she and Tony were married and someone she would have remained friends with after she moved back to Europe in 1986 as a way to stay close to Tony in one of the few ways she had left.

* * *

Time: A month later  
Place: Paris

Anna yanked open the door as soon as she heard the knock. She'd paced up and down her living room all morning, drinking coffee and trying not to let her imagination and nervousness get the better of her though it had been difficult because after Tony called and told her he was coming she'd nearly talked herself in the idea he'd change his mind and stay away for whatever reason so when the knock on the door came, she rushed to open it. A sigh escaped her when she saw him. He was a gorgeous sight but looked tired and she detected more relief in his smile than welcome. "Hi," she said kissing him and then reached for her wrap lying on a chair. "You look as though it was a long ride, sure you don't want to come in and sit down for a while before we go?"

"No, no. We're late already and he'll leave before we get there."  
"Who?"  
He smiled and kissed her cheek as he gently steered her out the door. "You'll find out soon enough."  
"I don't even know where we're going," she said, following him down the hall but then grabbed his arm to pull him around so she could see his face. "You're not taking me to that awful house with your father."  
Tony made a face. "You're kidding right?" and when she didn't nod or say yes, he took a deep breath and said, "Please don't start getting paranoid on me too. One of us is enough."  
"Is there something I need to be paranoid about?"  
"Come on," he said, pulling her along. "We'll talk on the way."

When they reached the street, Tony started down the sidewalk and Anna said, "Um…darling, where's your car?"  
"Stefano insisted on sending a driver so I gave him a day off."  
"And we're going to walk the whole way?"  
"No of course not, just a bit and then we'll catch a cab."  
"Wow, you are jumpy and slow down would you, or I'll twist an ankle in these shoes. I didn't plan on hiking."  
Tony stopped and looked down remorsefully at her heels. "Sorry. You want to go change them?"  
"That depends, how much is a bit?"  
"A block or so."  
She planted a quick kiss on his lips and said, "I'll live I guess, but I'll be expecting a massage later on you know."  
Tony laughed. "Anything else?"  
"Yeah, I want to know what happened after you went back to make you behave this way."

He resisted the crack lying on the tip of his tongue. The last thing he needed right now was Anna getting neurotic so instead he wrapped his arm around her and drawing her slender body next to his own, kissed her lovingly. After a minute he wasn't even sure which one of them he'd done it for because it felt so amazing he didn't want it to stop. Finally he broke away and smiled wryly at her.

She smiled back. "Good try," she said, wiping lipstick off his face, "but I still expect to hear what is going on."  
"I wasn't trying to change the subject. I missed you."  
She relented with a laugh and hugged him tightly. "Well in that case," she whispered in his ear, "perhaps we should go back upstairs."

"You know you're an awful tease." he said as he played with a strand of her hair that had escaped from a barrette and then stared into her eyes. Their green depths were mesmerizing and abruptly he found himself back in the strange room, lying on the bed. It was so bright that the light hurt his eyes but he couldn't close them, in fact he couldn't move any part of his body or even feel it. The only sensations that existed were his heart pounding and a paralyzing dread. As quickly as it had come, the memory winked out of existence. He was on the sidewalk again only Anna wasn't in his arms but several feet away, her hand reaching to touch his face and her eyes enormously round.

"Tony." She grabbed his arm and hauled him over to a bench that stood outside the next apartment building. He sank down gratefully. "What is going on and don't tell me it's nothing because you just blanked out on me. What happened?"

"I don't know for sure," he said truthfully, and glanced over to her face. Her eyes were still full of concern and fear. "I keep envisioning being in this place although I can't even be certain it's real. Did I say anything?"  
"No. Like what?"  
Shaking his head, he said, "We better go."  
"Oh no, not until you tell me what just happened and what did you mean it may not be real?"  
"I swear, I won't leave anything out but if we don't go now we're going to miss him," he said getting up. "Come on," he reached for her hand, "we need to find a cab."

Within another block they'd found a half way decent one without too much trouble and Tony handed the driver an address. Holding the paper, the driver said, "Sir, the address is, uh…far, in the country." Tony assured him in French of the destination and sat back next to Anna who'd leaned up against the corner next to the door with an expression on her face of uncertainty. Tony knew she was wondering what she'd gotten herself into.

"Just so you know, we're on our way to meet Shane."  
Relief spread across her face and she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you. I know you didn't want to go to the ISA but after what I just witnessed out there, we need help."  
"I said Shane, not the ISA."  
"Well, I'm afraid one is not going to come without the other."  
"If he wants Stefano bad enough it will. At least I hope so. I can't think of anyone else I'd trust who has the connections he does and after a couple days with Stefano, I…well, I had to admit you were right."  
"You mean there's more than that little incident back there?"  
Tony squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't think you're going to like any of this but Stefano expects me to go after Marlena."  
"Oh God, tell me you're joking," she said with a groan.  
"You think you hate it," he said, "Can you just imagine John's reaction?  
"And that would be the point, no doubt."  
"Partially, but there's quite a bit more to this than merely irking John."  
"Irking?" Anna's look was almost a glare. "Tony, this is the man your father trained as a killer."  
He reached over stroke her face and said, "I'll be careful. I'm not helpless you know and besides, the person we need to worry about is the man who trained him."  
"Well, you wouldn't need to worry about him at all if you hired someone to shoot him. Hell, why not John?"  
Tony's smiled thinned. "I can just hear that conversation. And when did you get to be so bloodthirsty by the way?"  
"I just want him out of our lives," she grumbled in frustration, "whatever it takes." He reached his arm around her shoulders to draw her closer but she pushed him away. "No, I want to hear the rest. Why did you ask if you said something?"

"Because," he told her, "the last time I had one of these episodes I was told I kept saying Marlena's name."  
She laughed. "And who told you that, Stefano?"

Tony laid his head back on the top of the car seat and thought back to that day in his father's study. "No, although the first time this happened was in his office after of course I stuck my foot in my mouth and said all I had to do to keep John occupied was chase Marlena. I just wanted to irritate him, but he liked the idea. Next thing I know, he's standing next to this portrait of her which he must have had done when she was on the island and she looked amazing, like she was blissfully happy." He shook his head in disbelief at his father's inasnaity. "He wants me to give it to her."

He leaned his head over when Anna didn't reply and found her looking at him. "I know I shouldn't be surprised by anything Stefano does, but having you give her the portrait he commissioned when she was his prisoner? That man's nerve is mind-boggling."

"And he has copies of it, one for each of us."  
"You're father has gone off the deep end, Tony."  
"Yes, years ago," he said, checking the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out a pair of sunglasses. "Anyway I stood and looked at the picture for a minute or two and then I see myself lying in a bed somewhere. It was gone almost in the blink of an eye so naturally when he tried to tell me it lasted several minutes I figured it was another one of his games."  
"Did you speak to a doctor?"  
He smiled halfheartedly. "You mean the doctors that Stefano has paid all these years to take care of me? For all I know they're the ones that did this."  
"What'd you mean before when you said you weren't even sure it was real? You think this is a memory that he had the doctors, what…implant?"  
"Maybe I'm wrong but I can't help this feeling that I'm being pushed to want something."  
Anna's brief smile was cynical. "You mean someone. Marlena."  
"I don't know what else to think at this point."  
"Please tell me you're not trying to made sense out of any of this," Anna said, and he could tell she was seething. "This is your father we're talking about after all. The lunatic who set up such an elaborate scheme to catch his enemies that the first person he killed was his own daughter." She turned in disgust to look out the window. "You and Marlena. Oh that's just fabulous. Like your brother doesn't have enough reasons to hate you already."

Tony quickly smothered his laughter and the urge to tell her that pissing off John would at least be source of amusement in the midst of this sorry mess. He didn't have much else to look forward to.

Anna had been watching the scenery pass by for several minutes when she glanced back at Tony in surprise. "Is this the way to Shane's house?"  
"No. It's the way to Martin's house."  
She froze long enough for him to notice and then asked, "Corville?"  
Tony nodded.  
"I sure hope you called him first cause he'll probably have a heart attack when you walk in the door."  
"I stopped by and talked to him on my way home last month."

Anna stared back at him as though she wasn't sure whether to believe him or not and then just the slightest bit of alarm crept onto her face.

But Tony just smiled and rubbed her arm playfully. "Oh, stop it. I certainly didn't expect that you were living like a nun all these years."  
"Yeah, but Martin isn't some strange guy you've never met."  
"Okay, you got me there."  
"Oh Tony, don't do that," she said, sounding miserable. My God, say something!"  
"Like what? I went off and left you with no explanation and then married someone else. You didn't expect me to read you the riot act about your choice in men, did you? I'm hardly in any bloody position to do that."  
"And that's it."  
"As far as I'm concerned. The two of you needed each other and I'm glad it was Martin. He'd never treat you the way I did."  
"No, he'd just lie to me about knowing you were alive."  
"That wasn't his idea."  
"I just can't believe how smoothly he managed it, especially after we had dinner the other night," she said, looking at Tony in amazement. "Not one tiny slip or gesture. That man should get a job working for Shane."  
"I know. You'd never suspect Martin of duplicity. He has such lovable, honest face that he fools everyone which is good because it solves our problem."  
Anna's eyebrow shot up. "Our problem? You mean my problem."  
"Well, the thing with you and Martin wasn't what I meant but you're right, that's between the two of you."  
The bewilderment on her face was so adorable, he leaned over and kissed her.  
"Tony, this is so unlike you."  
"No it's not. I didn't raise _that_ big of a stink about Prince what's-his-name, did I? Hell, you were going to marry him."  
"Well you never liked Alex."  
"Come now, you can hardly compare Martin to Alex."  
"Well, he sure as hell lies just as well as Alex ever did and I could name a few other attributes they share too but you wouldn't want to hear about those. So, how is he going to help us?" she asked, but then shook her head and said, "ooh, I can't believe he pretended like everything was normal. He is in so much trouble."

Tony laughed at her. "No he's not. Besides, if you want to be mad at someone, it was my doing. I'm the one who asked him not to say anything because I wasn't sure what going on and then when I got home and learned how much more complicated it all was, I realized I needed a way to deflect Father's suspicions about the two of us. I don't want him to know that we're seeing each other. It would be far better is to let him think that you and Martin are carrying on as usual so I want you to keep visiting just as often as you have been."

Anna looked at him like he was crazy. "That's asking an awful lot."  
"You're friends, aren't you?"  
"It's Martin I'm worried about, not me."  
"Oh, and you don't think he already knows how you feel? You turned down his proposal when you thought I was dead so he's definitely known all along what you wanted. According to him you never made a secret of it."  
"That's lovely," Anna practically hissed back at him. "Makes me sound downright cruel."  
"I'm just trying to say that he doesn't blame you and he's not angry." He shrugged his shoulder.  
"And you'd be okay with it if you were in his shoes?"

Tony looked away, out the opposite window for a minute and knew he'd be devastated if he were Martin. They hadn't exactly discussed the subject in great detail, more like an awkward ten minute confession Martin blurted out quickly once he learned that Tony had spend the previous week with Anna. As soon as Tony heard him admit to proposing, he'd realized Martin was serious but the man refused to listen when Tony offered to walk away and though it was obviously painful, he'd admitted to Tony that he had no doubt about Anna's true feelings. His sincerity made Tony feel like a heel. "Look we need to be able to communicate without Stefano listening to every word. I can't put you in that kind of danger and if he even suspected how important you are to me, then he'd use it, so Martin has offered to help."

"And," she looked at him in confusion, "what, we'll talk to each other from his house?"  
Tony nodded his head, smiling.  
"You know, I think that might be brilliant," she said, smiling back but then her face turned sober. "You're sure Martin is okay with this?"  
"Well, you weren't going to stop visiting completely, were you?"  
"No, but you guys have been friends for so long. I don't want to come between the two of you and I don't want him to get hurt."  
"Damn it, I'm trying to make sure none of us get hurt."

Anna reached over and wrapped him in her arms. "I'm sorry," she said, leaning her head on his chest. He kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer.

"Everything is going to be fine, you'll see."  
I'd love to believe that," she said, looking up at him with lopsided smile as her lovely eyes searched his face for reassurance. He managed a smile of his own but after a few seconds he didn't care anymore about Stefano or Shane or Martin but only how much he wanted her and kissed her with a hunger that took her by surprise at first. "Hey," she said breathlessly, "I thought you were the one who dragged me out of the apartment earlier. We could have done this in privacy."

Tony glanced at the cab driver who ignored him and then out the window. "Looks to me like we have a good half an hour's drive still," he said turning back to savor the beauty of her exquisite face, "so we can either continue this monotonous conversation about Stefano or…" He flashed a charming smile.  
"Martin is right," she said looking at him adoringly. "You're evil."  
Tony's smile got wider. "Yes, well he ought to know."

* * *

Shane Donovan swallowed the last of his whiskey and soda. DiMera was late. The appointment was to have begun more than fifteen minutes ago and Martin Corville had already rung Anna's apartment and her cell phone without getting an answer. Shane couldn't help wondering if leaving wouldn't be a prudent idea right now, after all, he had plenty of misgivings about coming in the first place and the more he considered the possibility, the crazier it all got. The man was legally dead. Shane had only agreed to his first meeting with Martin because he'd been assured of receiving information about the DiMera's. And what an enlightening hour it had been. Still, if it was true and Tony DiMera was about to walk through that door, Shane had to admit that a part of him would be relieved. Despite the overwhelming evidence, he'd always had great difficulty accepting that Tony had really been the one that set up John in Aremid. The whole seedy, drawn out nightmare had smacked of Stefano. Tony was certainly as capable of murder, but the man that Shane remembered would have done it openly, probably in a fit of anger. Games and manipulation were just not the way Tony operated.

But despite his feelings, Shane felt it necessary to check into Martin's story before agreeing to another meeting, this one with Tony. Digging up the body was out of the question of course as it would have alerted Stefano immediately, however there were some records remaining from the shooting and though he couldn't prove whose body was in Tony's grave, he was able to determine that the man who'd shot himself at the wedding reception had been Andre. But was Andre actually dead? According to Martin, the only assurance Tony had was Stefano's word in which case Shane could hardly blame Tony for being suspicious. The reaction had to come naturally no matter what Stefano said or did and Tony certainly had even more reason than Shane to be paranoid where his father was concerned.

Unfortunately, suspicion about Andre's death in turn called Tony's identity into question. It was possible this was Andre and Shane had to at least consider the possibility though he was reassured to some degree knowing that both Martin and Anna were convinced otherwise. Martin had known Tony for years back when the two were young and raced together on the circuit and Shane had a pretty good idea of just how decadent life must have been for two rich boys in Paris during the seventies. Each had plenty of opportunity to see the other at his worst, so if anyone would know the difference between Tony and his cousin, it would be Martin. And then there was Anna. Shane couldn't imagine her being with Andre for a second. He wondered though if she realized what she could be getting herself into because no matter how honorable Tony's intentions, his father was bound to have a different agenda.

As he waited, Shane had moved near the window and when he turned to set the glass on the table, he caught sight of the cab pulling up to the door and watched as first Anna and then Tony climbed out. Martin stood on the steps to greet them. In moments they were in the doorway of the immense library that took up a sizable area near the front of Martin's chateau. Martin and Tony were laughing about something and speaking French together and then Anna was walking towards him, elegantly dressed as usual and in his opinion, quite a stunning vision.

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek without formality. "Shane. Oh, it's been way too long," she said. "How is it that we live in the same city and never see each other?"  
"Evidently I'm not spending enough time here," he said eyeing her with appreciation before glancing over her shoulder at Tony who was still talking to Martin. Their demeanor had grown more serious.  
She followed his eyes and her smile deepened. "Unbelievable, isn't it?"  
"You're sure about this."  
She looked at him, this time with a keen glance and said, "He's not Andre."  
"I wasn't worried about that exactly," he said returning her gaze with a frank one of his own. "I hope this is what you want because you'll probably have to fight to keep it."  
"Stefano."  
He nodded his head.  
"Not exactly my favorite topic of conversation as you can imagine."  
"Well, you know the man even better than me, so I really hope you have taken some time and thought about this."  
She turned to look out the window and laughed. "Oh yeah, about every two seconds for the last month but it's not doing any good unless of course you know some magic cure I've not discovered over the years."  
"I realize what you're feeling now, but you ought…"  
"Do you?" She stood quietly for a moment. "Funny, but I don't see you moving on with your life," she said, turning to look at him squarely. "If Kimberly was to come back and the two of you had a chance, what would you do?"  
"Kimberly's father is not Stefano DiMera."  
"And that would stop you?"

Although the answer he knew she was waiting for lay on the tip of his tongue, he managed to prevent it from slipping out.

"I'm not trying to discourage you," he said, "only point out the danger you might be facing."  
"Yeah, thanks for the obvious."  
He smiled, looking embarrassed. "Yes well, I wouldn't want to see you get hurt, not the way quite a few others have been when they get between Tony and his father. It's a dangerous place to be."  
"Sorry," she said leaning over to squeeze his arm. "And I'm grateful that you're concerned, I am."  
"But you've made up your mind."  
"I'm afraid my mind had very little to do with it."  
Shane smiled a bit sadly. "Just don't let him forget how lucky he is…"

"Oh, he's very well aware of that," said Tony who'd walked up behind them. Anna felt the heat of his body as he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her hair. "Martin would like to take you on a walk. I think he plans on groveling but just as a favor, I'd really appreciate it if you would at least try to be gracious." She didn't say anything but turned to kiss him. "Pretend if you have to," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Stop worrying. I know how to behave myself," she said flashing him a smile and then looked over at Shane and impulsively gave him another kiss on the cheek.

He smiled and watched her stroll over to where Martin stood waiting at the door. "She's just as captivating as ever."

"Yes," said Tony with an anxious tone in his voice as he went to pour himself a drink from the tray set up next to the bay window. "Would you like something?"  
"No thanks," replied Shane, choosing a comfortable old leather chair to sit in. "I have to say I was a little surprised to see you arrive in a cab. Not the typical DiMera mode of transportation as I recall or one that you've ever used."  
"Not the one I prefer, no, but Stefano has been over zealous since I was discharged…"

"From the hospital?" Shane asked as Tony brought his drink over and sat down in a chair directly across from him. "I'd heard you skipped that particular detail in your eagerness to reach Paris, or was it perhaps a desire to escape Stefano's company?"  
"I had no idea my life was so diverting."  
Shane ignored the sarcasm and smiled pleasantly. "Watching a dead man carry on is quite fascinating really."

Tony didn't reply. He merely sat and turned the glass around in his hand as he stared out the window. The expression on his face was enigmatic.

"What exactly is it that you want Tony?"  
It took another moment but finally he turned back and looked at Shane. "I want to help you put Stefano in jail."

The look on Tony's face was one of determination and Shane understood immediately that if he was serious and this wasn't a trick of some kind that Tony had just crossed a line from which there could be no return. "I thought your family took care of obstacles such as this in a more permanent fashion."

Narrowing his eyes Tony said, "You don't believe that Shane. If you thought I was anything like my father you wouldn't have shown up here today. In fact you'd have already been on the phone to John."  
"Well it would make everything simpler for all of us."  
"What?"  
"Shooting him."  
Tony smiled coldly. "Yes that was Anna's assessment as well, however I've never quite picked up the knack for eliminating members of my own family though if I find out Andre is alive I'll gladly make an exception."  
"Perhaps, but I have to wonder Tony. Stefano just saved your life," Shane said with a frown. "Why so bitter?"  
"You're kidding right?"  
"Well, you did go back, even after everything that happened with Renee and your mother.…"  
"That's not the way it was," snapped Tony angrily, "and you know it."  
"You didn't have to stay; you could have left and walked away from all of it."  
Tony shook his head. "No wonder you've never caught Stefano. You really have no idea of how far he'll push the limits to reach his goal or just how little regard he has for the lives that are wrecked."  
"I was married to a Brady," Shane reminded him.  
"I know what the Bradys have endured but their family is intact. I can hardly say the same about my own."  
Shane drummed his fingers on the side table next to his chair for a moment and then, "Okay your family has not fared as well, but even you'll admit that family has been the one thing Stefano always protected."  
"Yes, so he could use us," sneered Tony in disgust.  
"For what?"  
"If I knew that I might not need your help."  
"Well you must have an idea, otherwise you wouldn't have bothered coming to the agency."  
Tony leaned forward. "I am not coming to the agency Shane. This deal is strictly personal and the ISA is not invited."  
Shane shook his head angrily. "You know I can't do that, it's not even an option."  
Tony shrugged his shoulders and sat back in his chair.  
"If you're serious why on earth wouldn't you choose to have access to the resources the ISA can provide?"  
"Because Stefano would know in a matter of hours. Have you any idea the number of people he has working for you?"  
"Yes, we know he has people on the inside."  
Tony laughed. "He knows exactly who you have in his organization which is why you had no idea I was alive until Martin called you."

It was a statement of fact that Shane could no longer argue with considering the proof that was sitting in front of him.

"Oh, and by the way, he also knows about John."  
"Knows what about John?" Shane asked, his heart constricting in alarm.  
"Basic Black. It's a front that John set up specifically so that he could continue working for the ISA without anyone's knowledge."  
Shane did his best to keep his expression neutral. "That is an interesting theory."

Tony just smiled at him and shook his head. They sat for several moments in silence and then Tony pulled himself out of his chair and walked with his drink over to the window. "I realize what I'm asking of you Shane, believe me, I do. I know that trusting me while cutting out your friends and family is not an easy choice to make, or something you'll ever feel comfortable doing but frankly, I don't have anywhere else to turn right now. What little I know scares the hell out of me and every tiny piece I add to the puzzle only makes it worse." He stopped to take a drink and then, "I'm tired of Stefano's games and I'll be damned if I'm the one used this time."

"You're going to stand there and tell me that you have no desire to help him pay John back for what happened with Kristen?"  
"She's dead. What will that accomplish?" asked Tony impatiently, turning around to look at Shane. "What I want right now is my life back."

Shane gaze drifted out to the window as he remembered the man he'd met so many years before, one who bore so little similarity to various other members of his family. Back then, Tony had cared nothing about money or power. Experiencing life and lavishing his charm on a lovely woman seemed far more important to him and Shane couldn't help smiling whenever he thought about Tony and the craziness that had surrounded him but Stefano had refused to allow that to continue. And he knew Tony was right about Stefano. Both the protection he offered his children and his love came with strings attached. "Okay so what do you know?"

Tony stared at him a moment before he said, "Does that mean you're willing to help me?"  
Hedging, Shane said, "I'd like to know some more before I make that decision."  
"Not until I have your assurance," Tony said with an even voice, "that anything I reveal goes no further than this room."  
"If you insist then you have my word."

With barely a moment's hesitation, Tony reached into the pocket of his jacket that hung on the back of the chair and pulled out a letter which he handed to Shane. He sat back down and looked out the window as Shane read the entire thing twice just the way he had back in the hospital the day Stefano had sprung it on him.

Finally after a lengthy silence Shane said, "I'm assuming this was given to you by Stefano."  
Tony nodded.  
"And you believe it is the truth?"  
"Unfortunately, yes. It explains too many things that never made sense before, especially Stefano's hatred for John and why he'd never explain when I asked him. He'd just clam up. It was so infuriating considering what was happening between Kristen and John but now it all fits."  
Shane's confusion was apparent.  
"He wanted me to believe that John leaned about this eight years ago when Kristen and I were still married."  
"No Tony," said Shane, looking back down at the letter again. "If John is your brother, he has no idea whatsoever. I can promise you that."  
"Then why would Stefano go to all the trouble of trying to convince me otherwise?" They stared at each other for a moment until Tony saw that Shane had come to exactly the same conclusion as he and Anna. "You understand now?"  
"He's feeding your hatred of John."  
"Precisely. And why would he do that?"  
"He's not done with him apparently and thinks that you will be happy to complete the job for him," Shane said, watching as Tony finished his drink and slammed the glass back on the table in frustration. "Come on Tony, you can't tell me it's not tempting."  
With an unflinching gaze, Tony shot back, "If you asking whether I hate John, the answer is most definitely yes."  
"Enough to kill him?"

The question made Tony pause and sit back. "Funny, Anna asked me the same thing last month and I found myself actually considering the possibility. She didn't believe me. Said I wouldn't be able to in the end because of my mother. Perhaps she's right, but the issues I have with John are between him and I, and I'm not about to let Stefano use the situation, and anyway, besides Alexandra and Father, he's the only family I have left."

"Being family didn't stop you from going after your cousin."

A fire lit up Tony's eyes at the mention of Andre. "We both know who is to blame for Renee and Kristen's deaths and I'll not allow him to sidetrack me with some vendetta against John."  
"Kristen's death was an accident."  
"And was it an accident that she ended up in Salem to begin with?"  
"I'm sorry but I don't see where this is leading," said Shane with a frown.

Tony sighed. He covered his face with his hands and rubbed his eyes as Shane tried to wait patiently. "It's mostly a hunch I'm afraid," he said, picking up his glass and walking over to the tray where he poured himself another drink. "I don't have proof, just a suspicion that has grown stronger every day since I came out of the coma and it started with that letter." He walked back to the window and sat down on the edge of a graceful bench carved beneath the old leaded panes. "I'm sure you can imagine the scene at the hospital after I found out about Andre. I was incensed, and then when he showed me the letter…oh God Shane, I've never come so close to killing him. I…" He shut his eyes and tried to compose himself. "Well, I wanted to inflict as much pain as he just caused me so I suggested that Daphne might have switched the two of us, John and I. I've thought about it since then and I'm sure it isn't possible but you should have seen the look on his face. The last time he gave me a look like that was in Andre's dungeon."

"Back when he believed you were not his son."  
Tony nodded his head. "Yes."  
"But then why go to all the trouble of convincing you that Daphne lied? Why coax you back into the family and do everything in his power to get you to marry Kristen?"  
"Because it's possible that neither John nor I belong to Stefano." Tony said, staring at him with an intensity that Shane found suddenly disturbing. "If Daphne betrayed him twice, what do you think he'd do to her sons?"

Shane stared back at him as the full extent of what Tony was suggesting sunk in and he recognized finally the desperation that had driven Tony to this meeting. Stefano had never stopped believing Daphne's story that Tony was another man's son. He'd merely changed his tactics. After Andre had failed to kill Tony in Salem and then again on the island, Stefano had set up a whole new game even more delicious than the first because it meant the two brothers would destroy each other and never even realize what they were doing until it was too late. Persuading Tony that he was indeed a DiMera merely gave Stefano more opportunity to manipulate him and thinking back over everything that had happened between Tony and John, Shane had to admit Stefano had succeeded admirably. Both men had blindly followed the parts that he'd mapped out for them and now shared a mutual distrust and hatred for each other that was quite possibly beyond repair. Not to mention, John was still unaware of why Stefano had spent years trying to ruin his life. "So what about your brother?" Shane asked.

"What about him?"  
"Someone needs to tell him about this."  
Tony laughed and said, "He'll find out soon enough I'm sure."  
"Tony, you can't keep this from him."  
"Come on Shane. You know as well as I do he isn't going to listen to a bloody thing I say at this point. The minute he sees me, he'll have only one goal in mind."  
"I think you could hardly blame him."  
"I don't."  
"Then let me tell him."  
"That would be taking an awful risk."  
"It sounds to me like you need all the help you can get at the moment."  
"And can you absolutely guarantee that you'll be able to convince him to trust me?"

Shane couldn't bring himself to answer that question. He had to admit to himself that John might never come around and if he did, it would take work. Considering Tony's disclosure of just how blind they were to Stefano's movements, John as a loose cannon would be extremely risky.

"I know you want to warn John," said Tony after a few moments of silence, "but I'm the one here with the preverbal noose around my neck so please understand that I'm not trying to leave him in the dark because of our past. Hell, if you could explain this mess to him, I'd be grateful. I'm not exactly looking forward to the poignant reunion that will be awaiting me in Salem."

While he understood Tony's misgivings, Shane hated the idea of having to lie to John. They'd covered each other's back too often. They'd been family. To lie to him because of Tony was something John would simply never accept. If Shane could only come up with some kind of solid proof, something John couldn't argue away then perhaps he'd have a way to persuade both men to work together but only one solution came to mind. "There is one thing you could do that would verify your story beyond a doubt."

Tony leaned his head back against the wall, suspecting what was coming next. "Let me guess. A DNA test."  
"He could hardly argue the validity of that."  
"Shall we bet on it?" Tony laughed, not sounding swayed in the least.  
Shane was taken aback. "Don't you want to know for sure?"

Tony smiled but his amusement did not reach his eyes. "I understand that your memory is little hazy about the last time I learned Stefano and I were not related. After all, you weren't around but I remember all too well. I still dream about wearing that bloody mask and those chains and listening to Andre describe what he did to Renee, but what's even worse are the dreams I've been having lately, the ones where Anna is there with me."

"You've been dreaming about Andre and Anna?"  
"Those are just the ones I have when I'm asleep."  
Shane threw him a sharp look. "What do you mean?"  
"What I mean is that I've been in a coma for the last seven years and I have no way of knowing right now what was done to me. I know what happened in that dungeon but I'm suddenly dreaming about things that I know never took place. I'm also seeing myself lying in some room and apparently I talk about Marlena, that she is the only one who can save me."  
"My God, what is Stefano up to?"  
"That's what we need to learn, and the only advantage we have right now is his belief in my ignorance."  
"I don't like the idea of lying to John."

"You think I do?" Shane raised and eyebrow. "Alright," Tony said with a small smile, "I'll probably enjoy it a little. Course I'd rather not be in this situation at all. I could live a happy life without ever setting foot in that miserable place again."

"What about your sister?" His mention of Lexie did not bring a smile to Tony's face as Shane expected. Instead he sat looking pensive. "You're worried about her," Shane said.  
"Of course I'm worried. I can only hope that she has more luck than the rest of us so far, but it sure doesn't seem that way right now. A few years of Stefano in her life and she's lost her child, her sanity, and probably her husband."  
"Oh, I think Abe will come around. He just needs time."  
"I don't know, the morality in that town escapes me. It works just fine as long as your father isn't Stefano DiMera, otherwise the sins of the father is a concept that is carried out to the letter on every opportunity that presents itself. We're guilty until, and sometimes even after we proven our innocence over and over again."  
"I think you're being paranoid."  
"Oh yes? I think you're in for quite an education over the next few months."  
"Figuring out what he's doing could take much longer than that."  
"Yes, I know."  
"What about Anna?"

After heaving a sigh, Tony turned to look out the window and sat quietly for a couple minutes.

"Sorry," said Shane as the silence lengthened, "that's none of my business."  
Tony shook his head. "It's not that. I know what I'm asking of her isn't fair and I shouldn't have gone anywhere near her considering what I knew when I walked out of that hospital but…"  
Shane gave a short laugh. "Well, I like to see you try to walk away now."  
"I almost got her killed the last time."  
"The way I heard the story, it was Alex Marshall who got her involved and once she found you, it was her decision to help. If she hadn't, we wouldn't be having this discussion right now."  
"I suspect that might have been better for her."  
"Please Tony, don't begin indulging in self pity on me now, not if you're really serious."

For the first time since he'd walked in the room, Tony flashed that enchantingly wicked smile that Shane remembered. "Sorry, spending this much time around my father hasn't exactly been fun."  
"Just his company, or listening to his schemes?"  
"We've got to put an end to this Shane, once and for all or I won't have a family left, and neither will John."  
"Yes," said Shane, getting up to fix himself a drink. "I think you're right."


	6. Chapter Five

Time: Late September, 2002  
Place: Salem, DiMera Mansion

It was late, a couple hours past midnight when Tony entered the living room of the mansion. He turned on a light, and then pouring himself a drink, sat down in one of the armchairs facing the mantle. On top, rested the urn he'd convinced everyone else in Salem held Stefano's ashes. Tony stared at it as the nightmare raced through his mind again just as it had the first night back in his father's house. The two of them, him and Anna chained in the dungeon and then Andre barging through the entrance in the wall to grab Anna as Tony was forced to watch, knowing how thoroughly helpless he was to prevent his cousin's attack. It never varied, and thankfully hadn't grown in scope or detail but like his visions of the mysterious room, tended to occur when he was under more stress. Of course lately that was all too frequently, thanks to John. Tony had decided that the worst part about the bloody thing was that it always ended exactly the same way, with Anna's screams echoing through the dungeon. He set his drink on the table and leaned his head back on the chair and tried to remember her as she'd looked the morning he'd left for Monte Carlo but instead of the vision that had kept him going when hardly anything else worked, it was the twin's faces that materialized.

Twins, each with a phoenix tattoo. And imprisoned in some government laboratory being poked and prodded and questioned and analyzed and God knows what else. He had to get them out of there, away from John. No doubt, he'd already put two and two together and realized that Stefano had sent the twins to Salem and knowing John's imagination, he'd jump to the worst possible conclusion. Not that Tony hadn't done the same thing when Colin showed him the photos earlier that morning. He thought again how strange it felt to see them sleeping peacefully and looking so serene because tranquility was the last thing their presence would bring to Salem, or to his own life. The key to his past and his future Stefano had said. That could only mean one thing and if it was true Tony understood immediately what they were meant to do, control him.

He supposed it could be possible that they were just an insignificant pair of children his father had engineered to carry out his plan, or they might even belong to Stefano but somehow Tony knew they weren't strangers and they weren't his siblings. They were his children. And that wasn't even the worst of his suspicions. He knew twins ran in Marlena's family. That along with his father's sudden insistence he steal her away from John, and the spells he continued experiencing added up to one thing...she was most likely the twin's mother. What a perfect way to drive another wedge between Tony and his brother.

Eyeing the urn on the mantle Tony cursed Stefano. The man was worse than a vampire, sucking the blood out of anyone who got close to him, those he loved as well as those he was bent on destroying and Tony had to wonder again, into which category did he fit? He'd spent hours determining how all the evidence tied together and was convinced that he'd been right. Stefano meant to destroy both him and John. But he couldn't help but remember moments, when he realized his father's affection for him was genuine.

He thought back to the night of the ice show years before, when he'd caught Stefano sneaking into the theater and had dragged him back to the penthouse and locked him up in the same dungeon where Stefano had kept him for months. They'd argued fiercely. Tony had vented his rage about Renee and his mother but Stefano had sworn he still loved Tony. It wasn't his father's words that convinced him of course. Tony naturally suspected everything that came out of the man's mouth as a matter of self preservation but he'd been unable to deny the pain he'd witnessed in Stefano's eyes. His father loved him which only made everything he'd done to Tony since abominable. At least he hated John. How could Stefano do this to someone he loved?

"Up for a midnight chat with your father?"

Tony opened his eyes to find Celeste with a cup of tea in her hands, standing next to him and looking up at the urn. "No, he said more brusquely than he meant to." She glanced down at him, trying to read his face, searching for clues as to what he was thinking. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked, making an effort to sound courteous.

"I want you to speak to Alexandra."  
"About?"  
"Moving out of the mansion."  
"Haven't we been through this already?" he said impatiently.  
She sat on the couch and looked at Tony earnestly. "Being in this house is a mistake that Abraham will never forgive."  
"And would that be because of me," he smiled, "or Stefano?"  
"This is not amusing Antony. This is your sister's life we're talking about and I won't stand by as it is ruined."  
Tony sighed. "You can't save her from being a DiMera, Celeste."  
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked in a sharp voice.  
"Oh come on, you ought to know the answer to that just as well as I do."

Celeste had been trickier to fool than many in Salem, mostly because of the years she'd spent with Stefano. Alexandra had been easy. She had too many other problems of her own to deal with at the moment and it left her little time to examine Tony's behavior, but Celeste was another matter. She knew Tony was hiding a secret and he still wasn't sure he should have allowed her to move in with her daughter. After all, Celeste had just watched Stefano destroy Alexandra's marriage and her happiness. She had an ax to grind and if she couldn't get to Stefano, then Tony got the impression that she would happily make do with him.

"Does Stefano have something planned?"  
"I don't know, you think he can manage it from there?" Tony said, nodding at the urn.  
Celeste frowned. "Why the worry then if he's dead?"  
"Considering that Alexandra and I are the only ones left, I'd say luck is something that is definitely lacking in this family."  
"Oh Tony, you've had more than your share of it," she chided him.

"Yes, I can see how you'd believe that but you've also seen what has happened to Alexandra since she learned about Stefano and you know just as well as I do what happened to her sisters. If that wasn't the case, you wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of hiding her from him when she was born."

"Ah, but that was Stefano," she said, leaning forward and scrutinizing Tony's face. "If he is truly dead than the only one left in her family who could cause her grief is you."  
"You think that is what I want?"  
"Stefano always swore he wanted only happiness for his family, even as he wrecked their lives."  
Tony shook his head as he picked up his drink. "Why is it that everyone in this town seems to have forgotten how thoroughly he wrecked mine? You see me with a wife or children? You imagine this is the life I was looking forward to all these years?"  
Celeste at least had the good manners to look embarrassed. "Antony, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest you are anything like Stefano, but…"  
"Yes, _but_. Everyone's favorite word around here when it comes to me."  
"You have to understand how people feel about everything Stefano has done here."  
"Oh Celeste," Tony said in disgust, "who do you think knows that better than I do?"  
"Then please, you must realize that by staying here, Alexandra is only creating more problems for herself. No one will believe she is trying to turn her life around as long as she remains here, especially Abraham."  
"I have to wonder how much he really loves her if it makes such a difference to him."  
"Antony, you know him better than that."

"I thought I did," he said, looking down at the drink in his hand. "I thought I knew the people of this town but that that was a long time ago, before they started believing Stefano's lies. Now it's the only thing they see when a DiMera walks in the room. Any DiMera. They're certainly not picky, are they?"

The bitterness in his voice seemed to take her by surprise. "You can't blame them for being suspicious about your story after what happened to John."

"John? No, I don't blame John. He didn't know Andre. But Abe and Roman and everyone else, they were all here the last time. They watched Stefano use my cousin. They spent months fooled by his impersonation and were none the wiser until Roman broke into that dungeon, so yes, I find their suspicion hypocritical. Tell me, when Stefano used John, was he treated with such distrust when he returned?"

"John is not a…"  
"A DiMera, yes I know. It's all in the genes I guess."

"No," she said shaking her head. "You know that is not true, but Alexandra did not know her father like you, Antony. She would never accept his faults and insisted that Abraham accept him too but after everything that has happened that's not possible, and by moving in here, he believes Alexandra is choosing Stefano."

Tony sat quietly for a moment and then, "Celeste, I'm afraid you're going to have to let go," he said, swirling the rest of his drink around in the glass. "I know it's something you probably don't want to hear, but Alexandra's marriage is something she needs to fix on her own."

Rising slowly from her seat, Celeste stared down at him with pity. "You don't know what it's like to have children Antony, how awful it is to see them in danger or in pain and feel helpless. I pray you never do." She picked up her empty tea cup and left as silently as she'd come.

Tony covered his face with his hands and sat for several minutes with her words ringing in his ears. Children. How often he'd dreamt of having his own. He thought back to how ecstatic he'd been when he learned Anna was pregnant and then that terrible day on the boat. It had torn him up inside, but he told himself he was young, there would be plenty of time to think about children and when he and Anna had married again, he knew it would happen. But instead, Stefano had interfered and made the possibility of a life with Anna out of the question. When he'd married Kristen he could hardly wait for her to have children but their relationship had fallen apart before she was able to get pregnant. Now on reaching the point of believing that having no children was a blessing in disguise, they appeared, virtually out of nowhere. Compliments of Stefano. Knowing what his father had done to John, Tony knew he needed to be cautious when it came to the twins but how? To treat them as strangers didn't seem natural, or fair. They were part of him and no matter what they'd been sent to do, he'd be unable to avoid forming an attachment. And who knew that better than his father. Stefano had always used Tony's emotions against him, as a way to control him but Tony had to find a way to prevent it from happening this time.

Sighing, he got up but as he thought about making himself another drink, the cell phone in his pocket began to vibrate. He closed all the doors before he answered it. "Shane."  
"Tony, hello. Patrick said you wanted to speak to me."  
"Yes," said Tony sitting back down and trying to clear his mind. "I do."  
"And it would be about?"  
"I think its time you shared what you know about the twins, the ones John and your agent are holding down in the basement at University Hospital."  
Shane hesitated. "How did you find out?"  
"Well, you're probably going to laugh but it was plastered across the front page of the Spectator this morning."

There was silence on the other side of the line.

"You can pull up their website if you don't believe me."  
"You're serious," said Shane in astonishment.  
"Thoroughly."  
"So, how much do you know?"  
"Not enough and not nearly as much as John obviously knows."  
He could hear a sigh and Shane said, "Tony, we're not going to get anywhere if you're going to play games."  
"This isn't a game," Tony snapped at him. "Just who the hell do you think those twins belong to?"  
"Okay, that is one possibility, but certainly not the only one and even if they do turn out to be your children, you have no idea of what Stefano had done to them," Shane argued. "You could be letting assassins walk into your life."  
"Is that what John believes?"  
"Well, he's suspicious, yes. Aren't you?  
"Whatever Stefano has got planned, I doubt it has anything to do with killing me. He's had seven years to do that."  
"That doesn't mean they aren't a threat."  
"To me?"  
"Especially to you. If you formed any kind of bond with these children, he'd be able to…"  
"Yes," Tony interrupted him impatiently. "I know, I know."  
Shane waited for him to calm down.

"Look, we're never going to figure what they're here for as long as you keep them sealed up in that laboratory," said Tony, trying to keep the aggravation out of his voice. "You know Stefano. Whatever his game, the twins will be completely ignorant, just as John was. The only way we'll figure out what he's up to is to let them out and see what happens."

"Oh it should be easy to convince John of that," Shane said dryly.  
"You don't really expect me to just leave them there."  
"Tony, I know at the moment you want to jump in and help these children but…"  
"They could be mine, Shane."  
"And they could belong to Stefano or any number of other people. We just don't know."  
"So, what...you expect me to sit back and wait until John figures it out? Come on, he had a solution the minute he got a look at those tattoos on their wrists."  
"That piece of information wasn't in the Spectator, was it?"  
Tony didn't bother answering.

"I'd think," Shane said after several moments, "that you'd want to find out if they're dangerous first and put a stop to whatever Stefano has planned. Isn't that why you came to me?"  
"No, I came to you because we both want him in jail. I don't see how we'll accomplish that with what you know so far or you'd have done it already."  
"We're getting there. It's just going to take some time."

Tony laughed. "You know Shane; I'd expect that out of John, but not you. John is only thinking about Marlena and his children. You know what's at stake here. We've got to find out what he programmed them for and we both know that Stefano would never have been careless enough to allow your specialists to learn that little secret. The only way you can tie him to the twins is the phoenix tattoo and that isn't enough to convict him, now is it?"

"Well, we know they were genetically engineered."  
"Which isn't a crime we'd have much luck with either unless he used…"  
"Unless he used what?" Shane asked but Tony wasn't so sure he wanted to share his suspicion about Marlena quite yet.  
"Nothing."  
"Tony, if there is something you're not telling me…"

"I told you all of it back in Paris, everything he told me; about the key and how's it's linked to my past and future and the things he's done to push me towards Marlena. Now you add that together and what do you think it means?"

"You and Marlena." There was a brief silence and then, "Are you saying you think Marlena is the twin's mother?"  
"You have to admit, it's the perfect way to control me and John at the same time."  
"Not to mention infuriating him to the point of wanting to kill you."  
"Oh hell, he did that the night I arrived in town.  
"I don't like the sound of any of this," Shane said, in a worried tone, "but I have to admit it sounds like Stefano's idea of a game."  
"Then you understand why I have to get them out of there."  
"No, not really. I mean, why the sudden concern, they were conceived in a test tube for heaven's sake."

"They are human beings Shane," said Tony, desperately hanging onto what little patience he had left. "My God, they've been his guinea pigs for their entire lives. If they're my children, the last thing I want is for that to continue. And don't tell me you wouldn't feel exactly the same way."

Shane didn't argue this time. "Alright, I understand how you feel but that doesn't solve the problem."  
"It could," Tony said slowly.  
"How?"  
"I understand the twins are quite intelligent. Perhaps the way to find out what is going on is allowing them to solve the problem for us."  
"What makes you think they'll be interested?"  
"Oh, come on Shane. I thought you were a professional. It's just a matter of gaining their trust and confidence."  
"I don't like that sound of that."  
"Really? And just how are John and your agent doing so far?"  
"Tony, you could be putting yourself in a very dangerous position with Stefano if you get close to these children."  
"If they are mine, I'm afraid it's already too late to be worried about that."  
"Damn it," Shane swore, and Tony couldn't help but agree with him. "John is going to have a fit if they're released to you."  
"Yes, but I have a way to take care of it so that at least you're not involved."  
"What are you going to do?"  
"A court order getting them released into my custody."  
Shane actually laughed at this and said, "well, thanks for the heads up. I rather like knowing when to expect irate phone calls from your brother."  
"I doubt it will be any worse than the one you got the night I came back into town."  
"No, you're right. That was quite memorable," he said with a chuckle, and then, "Tony…"  
"I can't promise not to get attached Shane. I wish I could but I'm not Stefano and they aren't just pawns in some game. They deserve better than that."  
"Yes," Shane said with a sigh. "Well, than I guess the trick will be how to take them out of the game."  
"Is that possible?"  
"I don't know but I'll work on it. You just concentrate on getting those kids to trust you and maybe we can find out what this is all about."

Snapping the phone shut, Shane tossed it onto the desk impatiently and looked over at the man who'd come in just moments before and sat lounging on an old leather couch next to the door. He was younger than Shane, with a casual attitude and a tendency to find his way around the rules if necessary that hadn't endeared him to most of Shane's ISA colleagues.

Patrick Lockhart rubbed suits the wrong way and fought everyone who tried to change his attitude. In addition, he had a reputation for practical jokes that more experienced agents did not find amusing. It had nearly cost him his job at the agency twice. Luck had saved him the first time, but it ran out after he and another agent hacked into an assistant director's computer, switching the screen saver that usually displayed the man's wedding picture, to one of the director entertaining a woman on top of his desk. That incident made its way through several review boards, the last of which was on the verge of firing him when Shane stepped in.

The two of them had worked together only a couple of times but Shane recognized attributes in the younger man that he considered too valuable to loose and so he'd worked to convince the board to give Patrick another chance, and Patrick had more than rewarded Shane's efforts on his behalf. Other agents teased Shane about his protégé but it didn't matter. His discretion was absolute and over the last few months, something Shane had begun to depend on.

"I'm afraid I only caught the tail end of that," observed Patrick as he sat up, "but I take it he found out."  
Shane nodded. "He said it was in the newspaper yesterday and I'm sure it was, but knowing Tony…" he leaned his head back on the chair for a moment and then, "He knew about the tattoos."  
"So he has access to other information besides the article. Murphy perhaps?"  
"Maybe but its not important now."  
"Somehow I don't think Mr. Black would agree with you."

Shane closed his eyes and remembered John's cold fury the night he'd called to inform Shane that Tony DiMera was in Salem, brazenly declaring his innocence and John demanded that Shane arrest him. It had been a painful conversation and Shane wasn't looking forward to another. Lying to John and Roman had been more difficult than he'd imagined and he hated doing it just as much as Tony had predicted, but in just a few short months pieces continued to appear that fit ever more neatly into the puzzle Tony had laid out for him at the Corville estate. Stopping now was out of the question. "You're right, John won't like this one little bit but it's not up to him."

Patrick was looking at him quizzically. "Won't he fight you on this?"  
"Actually Tony didn't ask me to get them released. He's doing that himself. A court order to have them placed in his care."  
"A criminal associate that can take care of his own problems? What a novelty."  
Shane glanced at him. "Look, I know you've heard a number of tales about the DiMera's but I need you to keep an open mind here."  
"About Tony DiMera." Patrick's voice was noncommittal but Shane sensed his hostility.  
"You have a problem with that?"

For a minute Patrick sat quietly, staring into the empty space in front of him. They hadn't discussed the subject of Shane's association with Tony so far, even though Patrick was the only other agent who was privy to the connection. He was dependable and Shane hadn't given a whole lot of thought to how he might feel about this extraordinary partnership, hadn't even considered discussing the matter but looking at him now and recalling some of the things Patrick had shared about his past, Shane realized this conversation should have been initiated back when he'd returned from speaking to Tony. "You grew up on stories of Roman and John, didn't you?" Shane asked him.

"And you." Patrick said, grinning a bit self-consciously. "Hell, your lives beat mine any day for excitement. Mine was just school, or babysitting, except for when I was trying to insure my mother didn't drink or gamble away the money she made."

"Your father around at all?"  
Patrick shrugged. "Off and on."  
"That would be hard I'd imagine."

His nodded before he jumped up restlessly and headed over to the window where he fixed his attention on the view. "The Bradys and the DiMeras," Patrick said with half a smile. "Yeah, they were better than watching Saturday mornings cartoons and I was hooked, especially since I met most of the Bradys and I'd see them around town or when we'd go to the pub. The DiMeras, they were always these mysterious scoundrels, kind of like the Brady's alter ego. As a kid it was exciting you know but a little unreal because of course I didn't understand just how deadly serious it all was. I learned that when I got into high school. It was after I met John, which was a year or two before that and so I remember when he went on trial for killing Tony." He turned to look at Shane. "Everyone my mom worked for told us this DiMera was different, that he'd never behave like his father, so when it finally came to light that he was the one responsible for John's entire ordeal it seemed even more of a betrayal then if it had been his father or Peter." He shook his head slowly. "I understand your determination to finally nail Stefano, but trusting a DiMera, especially this one?"

Shane met Patrick's gaze. "So you're positive his story about Andre is a trick?"  
"All he had to do was stick his cousin's body in the grave and say what he liked."  
"Except that the man who shot himself at the wedding reception that day was Andre DiMera. I would never have gone to meet Tony if I didn't have proof."  
Patrick considered this information.  
After another minute of silence, Shane said, "I suppose you've heard a number of stories since you arrived here, including the fact that I knew Tony before, when I lived in Salem."  
"I know you also voiced your doubts on a couple of occasions right after the incident about whether Tony was actually the one responsible for what happened to John."

"Yes, I did," said Shane getting up to pour himself a cup of coffee. After adding some cream, he took it over to a chair near the window and for some time sat stirring the liquid around in the mug unconsciously with a spoon. "I'm curious Patrick," he said finally, looking up at the young man's towering profile. "How much do you remember about the Slasher murders? You lived in Salem when they happened, right?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't much more than a kid, so just the highlights mostly I guess, like the day we found out that Roman was the killer. That was some shock, along with his escape from jail, thanks to Mrs. Horton. I know I'll always remember the day he showed up again, after everyone believed he'd died in that explosion and revealed the person behind it all. Stefano."

"You did know that the Slasher was Tony's cousin?"  
"I suppose so. I'm sure I read it or heard it around here."  
"And do you know where Tony was all that time?"  
"Stefano hid him away somewhere while Andre took his place."

"Hid him away," Shane said, a cynical grin flashing across his face. "It sounds so benign, doesn't it, as though he sent him off to a spa to relax but the truth was quite a bit uglier, and one of the primary reasons everyone was so convinced him and his father were nothing alike. You see, Tony spent those nine months locked up in a windowless cell in his own penthouse, chained to the floor."

Wearing a frown Patrick said, "I can't imagine Stefano of all people doing that to his son. Not from what I've heard about him."  
"But he did. And knowing Stefano, he thoroughly enjoyed sticking Tony's nose in the fact that everyone in Salem believed it was actually Tony who was framing Roman, and responsible for the murders. Sound familiar?"  
"You mean the Count's version of what happened in Aremid."  
Shane nodded his head. "Stefano even managed to make sure Tony lost the woman he loved, again."  
"What do you mean, again?"  
"You recall who the Slasher's first victim was?"  
"No, not really."  
"Renee DiMera. She was the only one who recognized that something was wrong when Andre began his masquerade."  
"But weren't they brother and sister, her and Tony?"

"They didn't believe they were at the time. It's complicated but the reason Stefano kept him locked all those months was because he learned Tony wasn't his son. He was infuriated that Tony's mother had lied to him and knowing Stefano's pride, I suspect he wanted to punish Tony for having announced the fact to everyone in Salem."

"So you're saying that he imprisoned Tony and used him just like he used Roman."  
"Not only did he use them, they were supposed to be the last two victims."  
Patrick appeared stunned. "Then why the hell would he have gone anywhere near Stefano again when he came back to Salem?"

"A few years after the murder spree, Stefano convinced Tony that they'd been mistaken about his paternity. I'm sure it took a great deal of persuasion and I can't even imagine the two of them living in the same house together, but by the time Tony returned to Salem, he'd found a way to come to terms with it apparently. Of course, everything went downhill from there, till he ended up in a coma."

"I don't know," Patrick shook his head. "It just seems too incredible. I mean, why would he ever go back if…"  
"If the father he'd adored all his life made amends? Went out of his way to prove his love and affection to his son, who I'm afraid has never been able to break away from the man. There is a bond between them unfortunately."  
"I can't imagine forgiving my father for the things he's done but he never tried to kill me. How do you get past something like that?"  
"When it comes to family it's really quite amazing what some people will forgive," said Shane gently.  
Patrick didn't appear convinced. "Well, this has been an interesting little DiMera history lesson, but it still doesn't explain why you'd trust Tony. According to you he's forgiven the old man and he certainly owes him for saving his life this time."  
"Not necessarily. You remember that DNA test I asked you to run for me in July?"  
"The DNA test," said Patrick looking over at him. "The one you had me destroy afterwards, yeah I remember. It had no names…" his eyes widened. "And it was a negative match."  
Shane smiled.  
"You think Stefano lied to him?"  
"Tony does."

Patrick whistled softly. "Oh man. So all this time he pretended that Tony was his son while he used him to destroy John, though it's kind of strange he would substitute Andre at the last minute."  
"Tony's far more useful than Andre. For one thing, he's not crazy."  
"Then he came to you because he believes his father is out to ruin him."  
Shane gave a small shrug. "Among others."  
"You mean John."  
"It appears that way."  
Patrick smiled sarcastically. "Kind of a stretch to think he'd want to help the man who destroyed his marriage."

"Yes, there's no love lost, that's true but like John, he's spent quite a bit of his adult life at the mercy of a man who's determined to wreak havoc on him. If he doesn't put a stop to it he'll end up dead. In fact they both will and I don't think that is what he wants."

"Why? I mean it's obvious he still hates John."  
"As you said, John gave him good reason and feelings like that don't just disappear overnight especially when Tony comes back to find that Kristen is dead and John has moved on to enjoy the good life. Witnessing that on a daily basis would be aggravating at best."  
"No more than watching a man enjoy his freedom when you believe he tried to kill you."

Shane sighed and looked back down at his empty cup. He could hardly fault Patrick for his prejudice since it was shared by nearly all of Salem, and while he agreed that John had plenty of cause for suspicion why did the entire town feel the need to spread such hate? Tony had been right about that. Even proving his innocence wasn't enough to change their attitude. They'd convicted him in his absence and they weren't about to admit they'd been wrong about a DiMera. Perhaps they'd picked up too many of Stefano's bad habits, including his pride. "So you still agree with John that he's lying?"

Patrick opened his mouth but then stopped. Shaking his head, he said, "No, obviously the DNA test proved he's being honest, at least about his relationship with Stefano and it would explain why his father would set him up to look guilty, but if both he and John are in such danger, why haven't you asked for John's help? Or Roman's?"

"Oh come on Patrick, neither of them have shown any more patience with his story than you have today, and the last thing we need is Tony having to explain his relationship with me to his father. I don't see how that can help either of them."  
"What about showing them the DNA test?"

"That test doesn't exist," said Shane, eyeing him pointedly as he rose up out of the chair. "You understand? Tony was adamant about it not being done at all. He's understandably worried that Stefano will learn it exists and considering his past I can't blame him though I had to be certain. But it needs to stay between us."

"Alright. But I still think you selling John short here. Surely you don't think he'd do anything that would jeopardize an opportunity to finally take down Stefano DiMera."

Shane didn't answer right away but walked back to the tray where the carafe stood and set his cup down. "In any other set of circumstances I'd agree with you, but this is different because it would mean he'd have to trust Tony and that's just never going to happen, he's made that quite evident over the last few months. I thought at first a DNA test might be enough to sway him but he doesn't really want to believe Tony is innocent."

"Even though the test implies that Stefano set Tony up?"  
"Tony had evidence confirming he spent the last seven years in that hospital in Switzerland but John wouldn't even listen."  
"There's something else here," said Patrick carefully, "something between these two you haven't told me, isn't there?"  
Shane turned from refilling his cup to look at him. "What makes you think so?"

"I just feel like there's a piece missing. Everything fits except Tony's interest, for lack of a better word, in what happens to John. Why not just walk away and let Stefano destroy him? Like you said, there's no love lost."  
"Walk away from Stefano DiMera? Where do you think he could go and hide that would be safe and for how long?"  
"So you're saying he's stuck."  
"Rather something of a raw deal when you get right down to it."  
"Yeah," said Patrick uneasily as he glanced at Shane and then away again. "So where do the twins fit into all of this?"

Dropping onto the couch, Shane set his cup down and tried to brush away the coffee he spilled on his sleeve. "I'm afraid I have to agree with John's assessment when it comes to the twins. They're a disaster."  
"Then you believe he's right, that Stefano programmed them to fulfill some mission."  
"Oh there's definitely a mission, he wants to control Tony."  
Patrick looked skeptical again. "Okay, correct me if I'm wrong but the guy hardly seems the type to be taken in by teenagers."  
"Not unless they turned out to be his children."  
"I thought Spector said they'd been unable to determine who they were because they couldn't crack their DNA."  
Shane chuckled at the younger man. "I plan to keep you working on that DNA but I don't need confirmation to know that Stefano's weapon of choice when it comes to Tony would be emotional blackmail. He's spent twenty years using it to control his children and it's always worked."  
"And you're still going to let him take those kids out of the hospital?"  
"What would you suggest I do, Patrick?"  
"They need to be confined somewhere. We don't even know what they're capable of and they could be dangerous."  
"Maybe, but Tony isn't about to go along with that and I do see his point. I wouldn't either if I was in his shoes."  
"But you're not."  
"No but now that he knows they exist, it's not a battle we can win." Patrick's frustration was evident but he didn't argue. "Besides," Shane continued after a moment, "other than the fact they're now able to communicate with us, we've learned exactly nothing about what Stefano did to them. Perhaps Tony will have more luck."  
"And the fact that Stefano could use them as leverage?"  
"Yes, well we'll have to work on that problem."  
"That's what you were talking about when I came in, wasn't it?"  
Shane nodded.  
"Any ideas?"  
"No, but in the meantime I want you to work on the twin's DNA. We need to be able to prove who they belong to and maybe we'll even learn if they were designed for something in particular."  
"Okay, you're the boss," Patrick agreed. "Do we have any idea who their mother might be?"  
"A suspicion."

Patrick waited but Shane was still hoping Tony could be wrong about Marlena. If he wasn't, it would be a bombshell. And considering that Stefano was somewhere, just waiting to spring the news on John about his mother, Shane couldn't help but worry that both revelations would be too much for him. It would be difficult enough to have to accept Tony as his brother. If he learned Tony was also the father of Marlena's children, Shane wasn't sure he could handle it or that he wouldn't take matters into his own hands and go after Tony. If that happened Shane had no idea of what he would do. "Let's just see what you find out first after you break down their DNA and then we'll deal with whatever is there."

"That bad, eh?"

Shane raised an eyebrow but Patrick just smiled back at him. With a legion of friends at the agency, Shane knew more than enough who argued that Patrick was a cocky little shit and while occasionally Shane agreed, the young man was tenacious, an attribute that in Shane's opinion was somehow linked to that exasperating attitude. There was no such thing as an unsolvable problem as far as Patrick Lockhart was concerned. It went beyond stubbornness. Shane had never seen anyone who stuck to something with such resolve until he wrestled out a solution, no matter how long or frustrating the process, and so far he had an unbeatable record. If anyone could find a way to break the twin's DNA, it would be Patrick. Shane was counting on it. "By the way, you haven't told me what you found out about those prescriptions I gave you."

Patrick sat in the chair that Shane had left near the window and turned it around so it faced the couch. "Uh let's see," he said, thinking back. "One was pain medication which would fit the story that Roman underwent surgery. That's what Tony said Stefano told him, right?"  
"Yes, and the other one?"  
"Allergy medication."  
This information surprised Shane who asked, "Does Roman have allergies?"  
"According to his medical file, he's allergic to several different kinds of medication. A couple of them are prescribed for pain. From what I can tell he wasn't allergic to anything before Stefano provided his hospitality but it's possible that was the first time he'd ever been exposed to that particular medication. Allergies to anything don't surface until the person comes into contact with the substance, or their body reaches its tolerance level, so it could be legitimate."  
"But?"  
"This particular medication is, well experimental. And it could be used to counteract allergies other than a reaction to pain killers."  
"You mean like hay fever?"  
"Or pets, or food even."  
"So he could be allergic to almost anything and this medication would take care of the reaction?"  
"Yeah."  
"Is there a way to find out if he's using it now?"  
"Sure, if you got him to take a drug test, or you could just ask him."  
"On what pretense exactly?"  
Patrick shrugged. "It's possible Stefano was testing the medication on him but I'm not sure where you're going with this."  
"I don't know, I guess it's matter of agreeing with Tony that Stefano's yarn is preposterous. He'd never risk bringing Roman to that house. It doesn't make any sense and I was hoping we'd get some answers after you analyzed the prescriptions but never mind," Shane said as he finished his coffee. "I'll make sure you have the DNA tomorrow and you can start playing around with that for the next few months."  
"Months? It's not going to take that long," laughed Patrick.  
Shane smiled at him. "Considering who designed the twins, we'll be lucky if you get an answer before next summer."


	7. Chapter Six

Time: November 2002  
Place: Salem

Having paced back and forth across the length of the waiting room a number of times, Tony finally got a hold of himself. He couldn't relax enough to sit down but leaned against the far wall and closed his eyes. His brother-in-law stood guarding the door that led to Alexandra's cell, making sure that Tony didn't interrupt the conversation that was going on inside between his wife and her mother.

Although Tony was trying to remain calm, internally he fumed. Each passing minute only fed his anxiety that his sister was about to be framed for Hope Brady's disappearance and apparent murder. He knew Bo was absolutely certain. It did no good to point out to him, or even Victor that the whole thing was so obviously set up to make Alexandra look guilty and a DiMera would never be this sloppy. But logic didn't matter anymore. Now that they feared Hope was dead, they were out for blood and who better than a member of the family they detested. Their prejudice and anger was blinding them to any other possibility but far more difficult for Tony than arguing with Brady, was having to stand by and watch as the police commander did practically nothing to help his wife.

Tony opened his eyes and glanced over at Abe. Despite his anger over the way Carver had treated Alexandra, Tony did recognize the man's predicament. His feelings were plainly evident. He still loved her but Abe Carver would never allow his personal feelings to interfere with his duty. If he could help her within the law he'd do everything possible. Beyond that, he'd force himself to watch stoically as she was found guilty and sentenced, and despite knowing how he'd hate himself for it in the end, he'd stick to his convictions. Perhaps it was one of the things Alexandra loved about him but Tony didn't give a damn about his brother-in-law's job or his honor. Alexandra's life is what mattered and Tony couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

On the other side of the door, he heard Celeste trying to convince her daughter that trusting Tony was a mistake. Slamming his fist against the wall in frustration, he stalked out of the room and through the hallway to the lobby of the police station and outside to breathe the cold air. Inside his jacket, he felt his phone vibrate. He looked back at the station lobby that was empty and then around the parking lot before he answered.

"What an incredible sense of timing you have," he growled into the receiver.  
"Why?" Shane inquired. "You're not in Carver's office."  
"No, I'm not. Thankfully I'm not standing next to him either, but we can't talk now."  
"Don't hang up," Shane said in a quiet voice that Tony had learned meant something serious was about to happen.  
"What's wrong? And what are you doing calling me now, it must be the middle of the night back there."  
"Actually I'm just a few blocks away outside John's office. I've got a meeting with him in a couple minutes, so please listen. It's important."  
Tony sighed and wondered what else could go wrong. "Alright."

"I'm afraid John has learned the position of the compound," Shane said carefully. "Marlena found those satellite pictures in your desk on her last visit and John has managed to find the islands' location using one of our computer programs. He's taking off right after our meeting."

Thinking back, Tony could see Marlena standing in his living room as John burst through the door, pretending to be concerned because he'd seen her car outside Tony's house. What an amusing little act they'd put on for his benefit he thought, trying to make it look as if it was a coincidence. "Guess I underestimated him," Tony said to Shane with a laugh, "using Marlena to spy on me but what of it? Let him nose around all he likes. Maybe I'll get lucky and he and Stefano will shoot each other."

"I think it more likely that Stefano has other plans," Shane told him. "He knows John will show up at the compound eventually because I'm sure that pillow he left Marlena was designed to jog her memory. The photographs only mean John will arrive sooner, but knowing Stefano, I'm sure he was ready for that possibility."  
"And?"  
"Don't you think it's about time for him to spill the beans about you and John?"  
"My mother's letter."  
"Stefano can hardly wait too much longer or he'll risk you finding out that he lied about it."

Trying to relax, Tony walked over and sat down on a bench beneath a large shade tree out of the wind. "Why exactly would that be a problem, John discovering the truth? You're the one who was so all fired up because I wouldn't tell him months ago, remember?"  
"Yes, well that was before the twins appeared. If he were to find out you two are brothers, and then that you and Marlena share a couple of children I'm not all that sure how he'd react."  
"Oh yes you do. That's why you're worried, isn't it?"  
"Not nearly as worried as you ought to be, after all it's your neck we're talking about here and if he comes after you, you'd be on your own Tony. I couldn't do anything to help or Stefano would know immediately that I was involved."

Tony sat biting his lip for a moment, thinking. He knew all about John's unpredictable temper and knew first hand how he'd feel about getting the news that he and Tony were related. First denial, and then he'd lash out, just as Tony had in the hospital. But John wasn't going to have to deal with this alone, he had someone to help him work through those feelings, and Marlena would do whatever it took to help John accept such a development without resorting to violence. "He wouldn't do anything to hurt Marlena," he told Shane.

"That will be true only as long as he believes she's not in danger from you. He's already suspicious in that department."  
Leaning his head back, Tony whispered, "Damn."  
"Yes. And we both know what a master Stefano is when it comes to springing a trap."  
"But even if I locate whatever the hell he planted before John finds it, I can't see it buying us more than a couple weeks, or a month at best. Why risk it?"  
"Well, considering he's already lied to you about when John learned the truth, what's to stop him from fabricating a letter or something else that implies that you knew about the connection all along?"

Of course this was exactly the kind of thing Tony knew he should have expected under the circumstances and he wanted to kick himself for not realizing it sooner. "That definitely sounds like Father, you're right. He'd want to create as much mistrust as possible and naturally that would only prove to John that I've been lying about what happened back in Aremid too."  
After a moment's silence, Shane said, "so, you'll go?"  
"Okay yes, yes, I'll go," said Tony but just then, something caught the corner of his eye and he turned to see Celeste standing in the doorway of the lobby, talking to someone inside. He remembered Alexandra and swore viciously.  
"What's the problem?"  
With a bitter laugh, Tony said, "Oh hell, just the usual. Bo and Roman breathing down Alexandra's neck about Hope's disappearance."  
"Oh yes, Lexie. That's part of the reason I'm here by the way. I have an idea."  
Waiting for Shane to continue Tony asked impatiently, "What, are you going to make me guess?"  
"I'd explain but neither of us have time right now; you need to leave and I've got a meeting."  
"You're crazy if you think I'm going to leave Alexandra alone with that mob."  
He could hear Shane take a deep breath. "Tony look, I'll take care of your sister. You have my word I'll find whoever is trying to set her up and stop them but you've got to arrive on the island before John."  
"So you know who's responsible?"  
"Like I said, I've got an idea but it's only a suspicion right now."  
"That's not good enough, Shane."  
There was a hesitation on the other end of the line. "All I know for sure is that Larry Welsh is no longer in prison and however he managed to get out, it was hushed up so that even I had trouble when I made inquires."  
"Hope's ex-husband. Surely he wouldn't risk infuriating Stefano by framing Alexandra."  
"Stefano is dead," Shane said almost sarcastically.  
"And I'm not my father."  
"No, though between you and Victor, I suspect he'll get what's coming to him, that is if Bo doesn't kill him first."  
"I take it Bo doesn't know yet."  
"Just let me deal with this and you concentrate on Stefano."  
"What if it's not Welsh?"  
"Damn it Tony," Shane snapped at him, "When are you're going to learn to trust me? Now, nothing is going to happen to Lexie you have my word but the last thing you can afford right now is to let Stefano be the one who decides how or what John discovers about your past."  
"Well, if I take off now, won't John suspect my source of information?"  
"Rolf will be learning about John's flight plan any time now, in fact before you have a chance to go implicate yourself at the hospital."  
Tony's throat was suddenly dry and he had to swallow a couple times before he said, "How did you know about that?"

"Come on, I knew you wouldn't leave her in there, especially now that they think Hope might be dead and all the evidence points at Lexie. It was just a matter of deciding what would be the easiest place to pull off an escape and the hospital seemed to fit the bill though I should be thanking you as it'll work with my plan quite well I think. And you needn't worry about your men. I won't implicate them either," said Shane and Tony could hear him open the door of his car. "So, call me after you get back."  
"That might not be right away, if you are certain you can take care of Alexandra."  
"Oh? Why not?"  
"If I'm going all the way down there, I think it would be a good time to check out the rest of those islands."  
"Well, just remember that two of them belong to the military. You go flying around down there, you need to be careful and stay out of their airspace…"  
"Yes, yes. I know all about how to avoid the military, thank you."  
"Good because I don't want to have to come rescue anyone."  
Tony laughed. "Keeping out of military airspace is not nearly the challenge you have, sneaking up on Larry Welsh."  
"I'll try and remember that," Shane said, slamming his car door.

* * *

DiMera Compound  
Later that day

With a quick check out near the runway to make sure the plane was entirely concealed from sight, Tony picked up his pack and headed into the jungle. The entrance to the tunnel wasn't a great distance according to the map Rolf had provided. He'd explained to Tony that the compound was entirely secure because the only access was underground from a neighboring atoll where the airstrip had been built though Tony couldn't help but laugh as he told Rolf that such an inconvenience would hardly stop John Black.

Tony worked his way carefully through the undergrowth, making an effort not to leave too much evidence that might lead John to follow him. There was a small pier built into the rocky coast. Tony hoped it would be enough of a hint and perhaps he'd even get lucky enough that John would be forced to swim the mile across the narrow channel instead of using a raft but knowing John, he'd probably have one stashed on the jet. After only a few minutes' searching he found the spot Rolf had described. The palms and heavily laden banana trees stood out from the rest of the jungle because they'd been planted evenly around a circular patch of ground. Tony noticed that someone had recently cut back the vines trailing along the jungle floor near the door to the tunnel and when he pulled it open, found footprints in the dust on the steps.

Pulling out a flashlight, he made his way down, closing the door silently above his head. It was confining but Tony forced himself to descend the stairs cautiously until he eventually reached the bottom where he found the tunnel leading under the channel. He was amazed by its size, so wide that two or three men could walk side by side and high enough that he could stand upright. Propping up the ceiling were massive beams that had obviously been replaced recently and looked to be made from the same metal as Tony's blue key.

Whatever Stefano had used the island for; it was a vital interest to him. He'd poured resources into maintaining its secrecy. It must have cost a ransom Tony figured just to build the tunnel and he was sure the place was meant to serve one purpose, as a way to hide something, or better yet, someone. Roman had definitely spent time as his father's prisoner, and Marlena as well. As he thought about this, he found himself trying to remember what he'd been doing while Marlena had been his father's captive. She'd disappeared only a couple years after Tony left Salem.

For him those first few years had been miserable as he struggled to find some way to forgive Stefano. The two of them avoided each other as much as possible. In fact, Tony had always been relieved to arrive home and learn that his father was away on business, so relieved he never questioned him on his return. He'd learned his lesson about keeping out of Stefano's business dealings. Instead he bided his time and told himself that one day the old man would be gone and he'd repair the damage somehow but the more he learned about everything Stefano had done during those years, the more Tony worried that there might be no way to escape the terrible karma that awaited the DiMeras. In fact Tony suspected there were mysteries buried in this house that could very well ruin him and Alexandra. Even if he managed to find them before John nothing stayed hidden forever.

When he reached the end of the main tunnel he found it opened into three smaller passageways and following the one leading to the left, he soon arrived at a dead end. The ladder was folded into the rafters. In no time he was pushing up a square piece of floorboard in what appeared to be the wine cellar.

Besides providing information on the tunnel, Rolf had given Tony with a set of blue prints for the house that he said included all the hidden rooms. Tony had studied them in the plane on the way down. Off the main salon, behind a massive fireplace was a small bedroom that had immediately caught his attention. The fact that it was concealed suggested it might have been used to hide someone, possibly Marlena. There were several other rooms Tony intended to search too but this one seemed the best place to start though he couldn't explain to himself why exactly. Just a hunch.

He noticed as he crawled out onto the floor of the cellar that there were other footprints in the dust but they disappeared when he reached the staircase. It was obvious the house was not being used. Old sheets covered all the furniture and the air had a stale quality that suggested mildew but Tony found it odd that the floors throughout the house were clean. And the electricity worked. Was there a caretaker or was Shane correct in his belief that Stefano was expecting John? It certainly sounded like the old man and part on him expected his father to be waiting for him when he got to the living room but it was empty and not a sound to indicate that John had arrived either. Above the fireplace hung a picture of the sea and on the mantle was the shell. Lifting it up, he pushed the button hidden beneath and silently a door in the back of the fireplace swung open.

Inside he came abruptly to more stairs and the hidden room and he paused on the top step. Though spacious, it contained only a bed, canopied with lace and silk and immediately he was struck by its familiarity. He'd been here before. He was positive but couldn't remember when or who might have been here with him and as he descended the stairs the feeling intensified. He stared at the bed and tried to imagine himself there with someone but after several minutes gave up in frustration.

"Oh Father," he whispered to himself, walking over to one of the arched windows, "who did you keep in here? Was it Marlena?" He could hear the waves crashing against the cliffs that were only a short distance away. Why did he recognize this place? He couldn't recall ever having visited before or even knowing of its existence until receiving the satellite photos from Stefano. But Rolf knew quite a bit about the compound and all of its secrets, more that he'd revealed Tony was sure and now that he was here, Rolf's behavior as he'd described the layout suddenly appeared more sinister. At one point as Tony asked about how to access a particular room, Rolf had told him, but added, "It works just like it did before." Tony hadn't paid much attention to the comment or Rolf's curious glances because he'd been in such a hurry.

Turning away from the window, he eyed the stone walls that were unadorned. It was a cold room, comfortless except for the sumptuous feather bed set between the two windows and examining it again, he couldn't help but notice that it had been made only recently. The elegant covers and pillows were clean, without a speck of dust. On a whim he bent over and breathed in their lovely scented odor and as he lifted his head, spotted a bundle sticking out from between the pillows. Looking closer he saw it was a stack of letters tied with a ribbon. He picked them up and yanked at the bow as he sat down on the bed but as soon as he looked at the writing on the top envelope, he nearly dropped them on the floor in shock. The script was his own. There was no mistaking it or the name that flowed across the paper..._Marlena_. He checked the rest and found over twenty altogether, each addressed to Marlena in his own handwriting and grabbing the top envelope, he quickly pulled out the letter. The date on top was 1991.

Despite the room's temperature, he felt himself sweating. "Dearest Marlena," the letter began, "as I promised you, I've done some research into my father's files on Roman, the ones I've been able to gain access to at least. There is no mention so far of where he's being held. The few people who will talk to me say they don't know anything about him. I'm afraid to push too hard. We both know what Stefano would do to anyone if he learned the person gave me information and I hate the thought of getting one of these people killed just for helping us. If Roman is alive, rest assured we'll find him. You must hold onto that belief even though you're confused right now about John and what Stefano has done. Whatever you're imagining right now, please remember, John is as much a victim here as you and Roman. Whatever memories he possesses, Stefano raised him to use as a weapon and I swear to you we will find a way to reach out to him and put an end to this charade. In the meantime I'll continue searching and perhaps I'll have more news by the time I come back which I hope will be next week. Stefano has a trip planned to Singapore. Take care of the twins and kiss them for me. Tony."

This letter couldn't exist Tony told himself firmly. It was impossible. He'd never been here or spoken to her, didn't even know that she'd been missing until long after she'd returned home to Salem. It had to be forged. His father could have easily hired someone capable of simulating Tony's penmanship but the contents were something else. Was it possible that Stefano knew him this well? And why would he even bother to suggest that Tony sympathized with John's situation? Tony shut his eyes and for just a second allowed himself to imagine sitting here, holding one of his children as Marlena lay in the bed with the other, smiling or even laughing at Tony's inexperience. A loud noise snapped him out of this daydream. It came from outside. John probably. Tony shoved the letters into his pack and hastily straightened the bed before he slipped from the room and shut the door behind him.


	8. Chapter Seven

Time: Next Day  
Place: Melaswen

As he taxied the plane off the dirt strip, Tony caught sight of Stefano waiting.

He'd flown clear to the end of the island chain. Airspace being restricted over several of the smaller ones along the way and spreading outwards for miles had forced him to fly south and double back in order to avoid any potentially messy encounters. It had taken a little over three hours to finally reach his destination; a trio of islands. On the satellite images, they were marked using numbers. Two of them appeared deserted from the air, but the largest one was clearly inhabited.

He swung the plane out around the island's western edge and traversed the length of it as the computer, which he'd programmed ahead of time worked, collecting images. From his window, he spotted a massive pit. Its size dwarfed the tractors and other equipment that were sitting idle at various locations surrounded by piles of dirt. And then a line materialized that seemed to partition the island, from its northern beach, clear down to the cliffs running along the south. When he dropped the plane in closer he discovered it to be a set of poles. Each one towered to the top of the jungle canopy, though the jungle itself had been cleared away on either side. Once across the line there were more areas cleared of jungle and then the biggest eye opener, tucked in amid the tropical foliage leading down to a sandy beach, the DiMera Mansion. He'd swung back to make another pass just above the surface of the water but there was no mistake. It was the mansion exactly as he'd left it in Salem.

His father strolled over as Tony shut down the engines and made his way to the hatch at the top of the steps. The expression on Stefano's face wasn't particularly welcoming. In fact, he looked suspicious or was it an air of displeasure Tony sensed?

"You almost look as though you're disappointed I'm not John."  
"Don't be absurd," Stefano growled impatiently. "Though I'd like to know why the hell you chose to follow John to the compound instead of preventing Bo and Roman from setting up your sister for that murder she didn't commit."  
Tony climbed down the stairs. "Alexandra isn't in any danger from the Bradys or anyone else," he said as he turned to shut the hatch and lock it. "I took care of that before I left."  
"Really?"  
Tony could hear the derision in his father's tone and wondered what Shane had done. "Well you've obviously heard something. What is it?"  
"Alexandra is dead."  
Stefano's voice, though calm had an edge to it that made Tony's blood run cold. "How do you know that?"  
"You think I don't keep tabs on your whereabouts?" Though his tone remained steady, Tony recognized the danger signs, ones that suggested his father's temper was about to explode. "I know exactly what goes on in Salem. I watch over both of you, and you..." he flung the word at Tony. "It was your job to watch over your sister instead of traipsing after John and Marlena and for what? What was so damn important that you felt the need to reach the compound before they did?"  
But Tony refused to be bullied by Stefano. Folding his arms, he shot back a blistering gaze. "I asked you about Alexandra. What do you know?"

For a moment, fury smoldered in Stefano's eyes and Tony waited for him to fly into a rage but instead he bit out, "Bo Brady strangled her as she was escaping from the hospital."  
Tony felt numb. "When?"  
"After you disappeared from Salem yesterday."

The hospital. Shane had said it would fit into his plan and Tony had assumed he meant to set a trap for Welsh. Allowing Alexandra's escape to continue and then making it look as though Bo had killed her would certainly make Larry believe that the police had been fooled. But admitting this to Stefano would be suicide. His father had someone either in the department or the hospital; knowing Stefano it was probably both and he'd learn eventually that the whole setup had been Shane's doing, if he wasn't aware of it already. Tony had no choice but to play dumb.

Putting his head down, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry Father," he said, forcing himself to meet Stefano's eyes. "I knew Bo was upset but I had everything arranged and I would never have left if for one moment I believed her to be in danger. Abe was right there and so was Celeste…" Tony stopped. The excuses sounded incredibly lame even to him but Stefano had himself under control again and gave him a stiff nod.

"I realize you weren't around to see just how angry Brady has become over the last few years or how much of it he blames on me and your sister but Tony, you cannot underestimate these people, especially their hatred of us."  
"Father, Alexandra did keep his son away from him."  
"Through no fault of her own."  
Tony managed to prevent himself from asking if it was by any chance his father's doing. Instead he rubbed his eyes and said, "Where did you get this information?"

But Stefano ignored the question and instead, demanded once more, "Why exactly did you feel it necessary to arrive at the compound before John?"  
"Well, who would you have suggested I send instead, Bart?"  
This elicited not the slightest hint of amusement in Stefano's demeanor but rather appeared to upset him even further. "You should have sent Rolf," he snapped.  
"Ah yes, Rolf." Tony eyed his father, no longer bothering to hide his own displeasure. "Why do I get the impression that the good doctor knows far more than I do about where all the bodies are hidden?"  
"Rolf can be trusted to follow my instructions."

Not appreciating his father's implication, Tony snapped back at him. "I'm not your employee and I don't follow anyone's rules but my own. I thought we'd had this discussion Father. You don't like me digging around for the missing pieces of my past? Then stop trying to hide them from me."

"What makes you think I'm doing that?" Stefano asked, with in a smooth practiced tone his son knew all too well.  
"Damn you," Tony hollered, loosing control of his own temper. "I want answers."  
For just a brief second, Stefano glared back at him stubbornly but then he shrugged. "Fine. What is it you want to know?"  
"You can start with the twins. If they aren't DiMera's and they're not my children perhaps you'd like to explain why Cassie and I share the same blood type. Not the kind of thing that I'd chalk up to coincidence, in view of the fact you created them in the first place."  
"I don't think I like your tone, Antony," he said, his voice sinking dangerously low.  
Forcing himself to calm down, Tony asked coldly, "Who are they?"  
Stefano folded his arms. "They do not belong to you," he said, and then gestured for Tony to follow him as he turned and began walking in the direction of the mansion.  
"You don't honestly expect me to take your word for that?" asked Tony sarcastically.  
"I told you I would provide you with the means to have your revenge on John. You think I'd use my own grandchildren?"  
"So you're only making it look at though they belong to me and Marlena."  
That made Stefano halt and look at Tony strangely. "What would give you the impression they are Marlena's children?"

"Well, let's see, how about the pillow you left her in the will? And then there's that damn portrait, and the fact that she just happened to be your prisoner at the time the twins were born, not to mention the queen you deliberately removed from the chess set before bequeathing it to John. The queen that was placed in the replica of the mansion you left me. Not a particularly subtle hint, Father," said Tony, narrowing his eyes, "or perhaps you've spent too much time with Bart since I've been gone."

Instead of the outburst which Tony was expecting, Stefano threw his head back and laughed, a deep rumbling tone that resonated with enchantment and delight. "Oh Tony," he said, patting his son on the cheek, "you really ought to give Bart the chance he deserves. He has so many admirable qualities, in fact I think he'd make a magnificent court jester." And his eyes twinkled endeavoring, no doubt to finesse Tony out of his dark humor. "No?"

"You're avoiding the question, Father," said Tony stubbornly as Stefano started down the trail again.  
"Well, if John chooses to believe that Marlena is the twin's mother, so much the better," he chuckled. "I have no doubt he's suspicious of them."  
"So it's all a matter of appearances."  
"Of course," Stefano said as though it should have been obvious.  
"And if someone were able to unravel their DNA?"  
For the tiniest instant, he hesitated. "That is impossible."  
It was Tony who laughed now. "This coming from a man with a lifetime of experience at beating the odds."

"No, no, no Tony. Now listen to me," he said, stopping once more and putting his hand on Tony's shoulder. "The twins are a tool just as Rolf has told you, a powerful tool that will bring John down once and for all. Believe me, they have absolutely no connection to you. I would never risk your safety in such a manner or use your children that way."

For an instant Tony was nearly tempted to believe the old scoundrel. The man's power to mesmerize even his enemies had never failed to astound him and though he had a certain immunity that he'd built up over the years, Tony knew just how susceptible he was to Stefano's charm. Perhaps even more so at times like this when he desperately wanted to believe. "Rolf knows how to program them, correct?"  
Stefano nodded. "Yes."  
"And if something were to happen to the doctor, what then?"  
"Oh come now Tony," he said, sounding impatient again. "You already know the answer to that question. Contingency plans."  
"That don't include me," Tony said, stating it as a fact.  
Stefano scanned Tony's face suspiciously. "What is that supposed to mean?"  
"Simple, I don't like being kept in the dark about this."  
"You're not," Stefano said, with a wave of his hand  
"Good," replied Tony, smiling. "Then I expect that Rolf will show me how to program the twins myself."  
"That's not necessary Tony and would most likely be tediously dull."  
Tony shrugged back. "I'll take my changes."

Stefano sighed. "Okay. I didn't really want to burden you with this information but evidently you need reassurance so…" He paused, as though contemplating how best to explain the situation. "There is," he began carefully, "another person already in Salem who knows how to control these children," and a crafty smile appeared. "Someone none of those fools even suspect."

"An imposter," Tony said, feeling his heart begin to race. "Who is it?"

"That's hardly a detail that you need worry about right now."  
"Stefano…"  
But his father remained adamant. "You don't seem to appreciate how imperative it is that you don't know. You must keep your hands clean. That is why I have gone to all this trouble, to keep you safe, haven't you realized that? Please, you must trust me," he said with a pained look before turning once more to lead the way to the mansion.

"It wouldn't be the same person that passed along the information about Alexandra?" Tony asked but his father ignored the question and Tony struggled to control the exasperation and the cold fear gnawing at him. Not that he was surprised but he could sense the noose tightening around his neck. He felt almost as helpless as when he'd been a prisoner and knew his father was toying with him, just as he had back then.

Hoping to control his growing panic, he tried to focus on the terrain and his surroundings. Dense jungle lay on either side of the trail they were using. Now that he wasn't arguing with Stefano he heard plenty of noise; birds for the most part along a high pitched buzzing that sounded like some exotic insect. Only filtered sunlight peeked through the canopy above and the ground was damp and mossy.

What on earth was going on here? What was the old man planning to do with a copy of the mansion? Tony could think of several possible scenarios; it could be meant to cage him and Marlena while John was either forced to watch or carry on without his wife. But what of the numerous areas that had been cleared to the south? And how did the twins fit into all of this?

His speculation ended abruptly as he realized they'd arrived at the mansion which was completely hidden behind a wall of tropical vegetation. Only the door was visible from outside. Still, Tony's sense of déjà vu was overwhelming and he paused, recalling the few instances he and his father actually spent together inside this house. The irony that once again everyone else believed Stefano to be dead was unnerving. He remembered the last time. Despite the passage of years, it was incredibly vivid. He'd slammed the door shut to make sure Stefano heard him leave but remained just inside, waiting for his father to make his appearance, and right on cue, the object of his suspicion materialized from behind the wall, robust and energetic, certainly not looking as though he'd met his fate in a fiery explosion.

"Are you coming in?"  
Startled, Tony 's memory of a younger Stefano slipped away and he realized his father was holding the door and gazing at him with a curious expression.

Once inside, the strangeness of walking around the well-known interior wore off after he'd showered and rested for a bit. At least the closet in his room wasn't stocked with an identical wardrobe. He found himself a pair of swim trunks. After slipping them on and throwing on a silk shirt, he found his way to the terrace that overlooked the beach and there he dumped everything on a lounge chair.

"I'd be careful out there," his father said from behind him. "I've seen quite a number of sharks cruising about in the evenings lately."  
Tony's laughter was brittle. "I think I know quite a bit about swimming with the sharks," he said, as he scanned the horizon and then glanced back at Stefano. "In the water, and out."  
There was a pause and then, "Why is it I get the impression that you're still angry with me?"  
"Because, you're very perceptive, Father."

Stefano raised an eyebrow but Tony knew he needed to cool off and left to take his swim. When he returned, his father was sitting in the shade of the patio. His feet were up and he seemed to be concentrating on the book he was reading as Tony arrived and picked up the towel to dry off but his act didn't fool Tony.

"You know exactly what is upsetting me Father, so let's not bother with the pretence."  
Without looking up, Stefano shrugged. "Curiosity is not always an asset, you know."  
"That sounds rather like the line you tried feeding me the morning of my wedding, remember?" said Tony, his voice clipped and angry. "And pardon me, but I can't help believing that Kristen would be alive right now if you'd answered my questions about John when I asked you the first time."  
"Oh no, Tony." Stefano's eyes bored into him, grim but oddly sympathetic. "I understand how desperately you wish things had turned out differently but you can't honestly tell me it would have changed the way you felt about John."  
"You know it would, which is why you kept it from me," Tony accused.  
For an instant, Stefano's gaze was cold and distant and though he recovered quickly, Tony knew he'd hit a nerve.  
"Does this mean you're ready to forgive John?" Stefano asked him.

"Hardly," Tony said as he thought back to the compound where the previous day he'd very nearly died. John had refused to pull him out after he'd pushed Tony, who ended up hanging from the edge of a hole in the floor. He'd pleaded with John for help but his grip was slipping when Marlena finally appeared. It was only her insistence that had saved him.

"Then I'm afraid, I'm confused, what is the problem?"  
"This is a partnership Father, not some benevolent charity you're handing out. I'm not interested in watching you take your revenge on John, the whole point was to carry it out myself."  
"And you will."  
Tony snorted. "I don't even know what it is yet."  
"I've gone to great lengths to make sure…"  
"That I'm not in any danger," Tony interrupted him impatiently. "Yes I know. And I'm a little tired of hearing it. I don't need protection from John, thank you."

Stefano leaned back and closed his eyes. "I know you're not purposely being cruel Antony but I can't bear to think about loosing you. Not after seven long years of imagining that you might never awaken again, and now that you have I find it difficult knowing that you're at John's mercy every moment you're back in Salem."

"You make it sound as though he's going to be waiting outside my door one morning with a butcher knife."  
Stefano shook his head slowly. "I know better that you what John is capable of."

"Well of course you do," Tony sneered. "My God, you're the one who created the monster." Grabbing his towel, he made it almost to the door before he swung around. "Funny don't you think," he continued, as his smile twisted into a bitter line, "how Kristen thought that getting rid of me meant she'd be safe with John, protected from you and the DiMera influence by the very man you trained to be a killer." He shook his head. "If the outcome wasn't so unbearably horrendous the whole bloody thing might be funny." With the towel slung over his shoulder, he turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" The concern in Stefano's voice merely fueled his irritation.  
"Back to Salem."  
"Now? You only just arrived."  
"Well, I don't see the point in staying since you're obviously not interested in divulging any of your deep dark secrets."  
"Wait Tony," said Stefano getting up out of his chair. "I'm afraid there's another problem I have to discuss with you first."  
Remarkably it sounded more like a request then a command and Tony paused just inside the French doors and looked back.  
From the look on his face Tony guessed it was business. "There is someone who is responsible for what happened to Alexandra and I'm sure you'll understand that they ought to be punished."

Fighting a sudden urge to laugh, Tony asked, "And were you thinking about me or Bo?"  
"Colin Murphy."  
"Murphy?" said Tony in surprise. "What is it that you think he's done?"  
"This is not speculation Tony," said Stefano in a tight voice. "I have proof he arranged Welsh's early release from prison and provided him with accommodations, supplies, whatever he required."  
Tony raised both eyebrows. "Larry Welsh?"  
Stefano nodded.  
"So, he was the one that took Hope."  
"Yes." The voice dropped to a low, menacing growl. "As well as setting up Alexandra, with Murphy's assistance."  
Tony eyed him suspiciously. "Why then are you only interested in Colin?"  
The smile Stefano wore as he turned towards him was distinctly unpleasant. "What will be left of Welsh once Victor and Bo get done with him?"

"Yes, Tony nodded in agreement. "And naturally you want to take care of Colin because he works for you which I have to say, I still don't understand. Shawn Brady's nephew. How the hell did he ever end up tied to your organization or is that another piece of information you need to keep a secret from me for my own protection?"

Again, Stefano ignored the dig. "Where Murphy's concerned, I'm afraid I'll need you assistance."  
It took every fiber of self control Tony possessed to keep his expression steady and stop his rising panic from spilling out. "You want me to hand him over to you."  
Beaming, Stefano squeezed his arm. "Yes."  
"Well, that ought to be quite a trick, spiriting Colin away so that his family doesn't blame me," said Tony with a laugh. "Though if you're right about Alexandra, I might just want to strangle him myself."  
"No."  
His father's tone was so emphatic that Tony knew instantly that he didn't want Colin because of Welsh or Alexandra. _Damn it,_ he swore to himself, _another secret,_ but with a glance at his father, he said, "Fine, I'll take care of it."

Stefano smiled but Tony was in no mood to put up with even another second of the old man's lies. He turned on his heel and made his way across the living room.

"Would you like someone to drive you back to the airstrip?" Stefano asked as Tony reached the stairs.  
"No, I think I can find my own way, thank you."  
"Tony…" The growl was almost a plea.  
He stopped but didn't turn around.  
"Please, this is not healthy, going away like this, so angry and bitter, especially now that both of us have to deal with the loss of Alexandra."

Hearing the pain in his father's voice made him realize that Stefano truly believed her to be dead and was pleading with him for consolation, but Tony knew he couldn't allow himself that emotion, not where his father was concerned. Releasing that bottled up corner of his soul that still ached for Stefano's affection would be disastrous, not to mention agonizing.

He sighed. "I'm sorry Father, but you can't have it both ways. I'm either the son you trust and depend on, or I'm not and you'll have to find a way to provide your own comfort, just as you left me to do after Renee's death."


	9. Chapter Eight

Time: Thanksgiving, late evening  
Place: Tunnels beneath St. Luke's

Tony glanced at his watch for the third time in five minutes. He didn't mind so much that Shane was late, but he wasn't thrilled about having to wait in the tunnels beneath St. Luke's. The temperature was even colder he decided than it was in the church most of the time.

And he certainly was not in the mood for being alone, not down here anyway where dodging his memories became problematic, especially after a stroll through the cemetery.

Since returning, he'd actually visited on a couple of occasions, the initial one being the most difficult. Confronted with Kristen's grave for the first time proved to be more of an emotional experience than he'd anticipated, at least after he managed to hunt down its location. He'd finally requested assistance from one of the curates who was unable to shed any light as to why she'd been buried in that particular spot. He couldn't even tell Tony who'd arranged her burial. Stefano probably but it was all wrong Tony thought the moment he saw it. She belonged next to Renee and Daphne. Not because of any kindred attachment between them of course. There'd been none until fate intervened and flung them all into the path of events as chaotic and destructive as any hurricane. But then they weren't the only ones lying in this cemetery because of Stefano and as badly as he wanted to believe there'd be no more, Tony found it impossible to ignore more than twenty years of history. As long as Stefano survived, the threat he posed to Salem and everyone living here would linger on.

So, why not just follow Anna and Shane's advice and eliminate him? Flying home yesterday, he had to admit it was a tempting idea. It did seem the perfect solution until he added the twins into the equation. And that had been Stefano's objective no doubt. He counted on the fact that Tony would do nothing to harm his own children and now that he was aware of another person in town able to manipulate their actions, Tony feared that killing Stefano might set terrible events into motion, events they'd be unable to control. After all, the man never left anything to chance.

"Excellent, you're here already," said Shane as he appeared from around a corner. "I think everyone else in this town must be sleeping off their dinner."  
Tony forced a small smile. "I hope that includes my brother. I'm far too tired to have to sneak home tonight past John holed up in the bushes somewhere."  
"I don't think you have to worry about John. He took Marlena home," Shane said and then threw him a funny look. "He's thoroughly relieved to have her off that island and away from you, so what happened down there?"  
Tony's eyes widened in surprise. "He didn't tell you?"  
"Not everything I suspect but he did give me this." Shane held up a plastic bag with a letter fragment inside. "I had to assume you didn't make it there before him, either that or you weren't able to find it?"

Frowning, Tony held out his hand and Shane gave him the bag. It took only a few words to recognize the letter his mother had written to her sister, the same one that Stefano had sprung on him in the hospital back in Switzerland. "Where'd they find it?"  
"Marlena said it was in a storage room full of medical equipment. She pulled it out of a vanity drawer."

"Well, well, well," murmured Tony thinking back to the frantic tone in her voice as she'd demanded that John save Tony from falling and then, almost immediately her insistence that they leave and return home.

Shane eyed him but waited quietly until Tony handed the letter back and then said, "John was bursting at the seams to tell me that you'd appeared almost as soon as they did but he wasn't exactly forthcoming about what was said and I know him well enough; he was uncomfortable. Even Marlena wasn't willing to talk about it, so?"

"Oh my, John was embarrassed? I would have liked to have seen that," Tony said, genuinely pleased. Shane, however was not amused.  
"You know, I'm beginning to feel like a referee here and I don't like it."

Tony simply shrugged and a tiny hint of a smile remained. "Alright. Apparently Marlena disappeared and as soon as he saw me, he assumed I'd taken her somewhere and locked her up and of course telling him otherwise was pretty much a waste of my breath. When I turned to walk away, he tried to stop me and the next thing I knew I was hanging onto the edge of a hole in the floor." He paused and shook his head. "Lucky for me Marlena showed up before I fell."

"Are you saying he refused to pull you out?" Shane demanded. A sinking feeling was quickly developing in his gut.  
"He was sure he could get me to admit where I'd hidden her."  
"God, this is such a bloody mess," he hollered at the ceiling in frustration, his fist pounding the crate sitting next to him.  
The snort of laughter that erupted out of Tony sounded thoroughly bitter. "You couldn't be more right about that."  
"What," he asked sharply. "There's more?"

"Well, I don't know who left the letter Marlena found but considering it was buried I doubt it was Stefano," said Tony reaching into his pocket. "I'm pretty sure this is what he meant for them to find." He held out one of the letters he'd discovered.

Shane's immediate thought was that he'd been correct in assessing Stefano's motives but from the unreadable expression on Tony's face, there had to be more. "So you did arrive first."  
Tony nodded.  
But as soon as he saw the name on the envelope, his eyes darted up to meet Tony's piercing dark gaze and wry smile. Tearing open the letter, he read it through. "It's in there I see," he commented, after he'd finished and Tony noticed how relieved he sounded. "I think maybe you should have let John take a look at this."  
This time, Tony's bitterness was even more obvious. "If he'd seen all of them he wouldn't have just refused to help me up, he'd have kicked me over the edge."  
"Tony…"  
But his partner snarled at him now. "Just how the hell am I supposed to feel about my brother trying to kill me?"  
Shane's hand flew up. "Look, I don't blame you for being upset with John," he said, figuring it probably wouldn't be a great time to point out the difference between indulgence and premeditation. "I just don't understand why you would think this letter is such a disaster."

Though Tony's face was half hidden in the shadows of the tunnel wall, Shane caught the fleeting curl in his lip. "Because it's not the only one," he said, forcing the words out as though they were choking him. "I found an entire stack in that secret room behind the fireplace, there are twenty-two more."

"Why would Stefano go to all the hassle of…" His eyes widened and, "oh no." He shook his head. "Oh, damn, tell me I'm imagining this," he said to Tony. "Please."  
"I'd love to. Unfortunately…"

The rather colorful expletive that escaped Shane's lips reverberated in the tunnel with a stark viciousness and grabbing a rock, he hurled it down the tunnel, and then another but after a moment Tony heard his disgusted laughter. "I suppose we should have expected he'd do something like this."  
"Yes maybe, but Shane I read all the letters and…"  
"And?"  
Tony sat looking ill at ease until Shane lost what was left of his patience and snapped at him. "I don't see what could be worse than making it look as though you slept with Marlena."

"What if I did?"

For a moment there was absolute silence as they stared at each other.

Not entirely sure he wanted to know, Shane asked, "Are you saying that you remember writing the letters?"

"No." Tony shook his head in frustration. "It's not that, let's just say I recognize the way my mind works, and how it translates into words on a page. I knew the moment I read that diary Andre left in Aremid that it was a forgery but these letters, I'd swear I wrote them, and there are things in there that I…" He sighed. "Well, I just can't imagine Stefano would bother to add, not if they were meant for John's benefit anyway, I mean why not make it look as though I forced her or drugged her, or that the twins were conceived by us instead of in a laboratory and the whole thing with me helping her escape. The two of us make love, and then I send her back to her family? Hardly sounds like the kind of tale Stefano would invent to infuriate John."

Shane frowned at him and asked, "You're sure you don't remember doing any of the things that are mentioned?"  
"No," Tony said a bit more forcefully than necessary but with a glance at Shane's troubled face, he took a deep breath and in a calmer tone, "Marlena doesn't remember any of the time she spent on the island either."  
"Yeah, well that was because she was drugged."  
"Oh Shane. If I learned John wasn't Roman, and about the twins, and then I arranged Marlena's escape…"  
"He would have needed to shut you up," said Shane nodding his head. Both of them were quiet for several minutes, lost in their own thoughts and then Shane glanced over at Tony. "What if she remembers you were on the island?"  
Tony leaned his head back. "I don't know," he said running his hand across his eyes. "I just keep thinking this can't get any worse, but I guess I ought to know better."

A few more minutes ticked by in silence until something Tony said before suddenly clicked in Shane's mind. "Wait a minute; you just said that you arranged Marlena's escape so she could come back here."  
"Yes," Tony agreed, though his voice was noncommittal. "At least it's written that way in the letters, so?"  
"Well, you know what that means, don't you?"  
Tony laughed at him. "If you're suggesting that this will prove to John that I'm telling the truth about Stefano, you had way too much wine for dinner my friend. Despite the overwhelming evidence, he's still convinced that I set him up in Aremid and that even if I didn't, its not important because I'm obviously following in Daddy's footsteps. God, nothing I say wipes that smirk off his face."  
Shane's lips pursed to a thin line. "Making it look as though you're interested in Marlena isn't helping the situation you know."  
"Yeah? Well, it's a little difficult trying to keep him and Stefano happy at the same time," Tony shot back.  
Shane's hand rubbed the side of his jaw impatiently. "What bloody rotten luck," he said, shaking his head again as he looked almost accusingly in Tony's direction. "You know, I was feeling rather pleased about the last few days until I came down here. We managed to stop Welsh and Hope is alive, back with her family, so is Lexie…"

"Oh yes, I meant to thank you for that. I do appreciate everything you did to help Alexandra," said Tony with a nod in Shane's direction.  
"Then you can thank Bo," said Shane as a smile reappeared on his face. "It was his idea."  
Tony's eyebrow inched up just a notch. "You told me it was your idea before I left." But Shane's reply was as smooth a lie as even Stefano could produce on a moment's notice.  
"Well, we came up with it together."  
With a laugh Tony said, "The hell you did. You just didn't want to tell me it was Bo because you knew I would have refused to leave."  
"And I was right, wasn't I?"  
Tony merely shook his head at him. "A warning might be more productive next time."  
That caught Shane's attention and he frowned. "Why?"  
"When I ran into Stefano yesterday he expected an explanation as to why I'd leave Alexandra in such a predicament to go chasing after John. He seemed pretty convinced she was dead."

Ignoring Tony's insinuation, his thoughts began to race. "You found him down there?"  
"Not at the compound," said Tony, looking almost amused at the eagerness gleaming in Shane's eyes. "He's hiding out on one of the other islands."  
"Well?" he prompted impatiently.  
Tony produced a flat plastic container out of his jacket and tossed it over to him. Through the clear cover on one side, Shane saw the disk. "Pictures?"  
"Only aerial shots."  
Glancing at the treasure in his hand, Shane understood his friend's pessimism but even the most seemingly inconsequential clue might provide them with a way to fit all the other ones together, an aspect of the situation not lost on Stefano, he was sure. "I'm surprised he let you off the island with them."  
"I left plenty in the plane's computer for his men to erase," Tony informed him, "and they damn near ruined the camera."  
Slipping the disk into his own pocket, he warned, "He'll assume you copied them first."  
Tony shrugged. "Perhaps. I'm not even sure how useful they'll be though there were a couple of odd things."  
"Like what?" Shane asked, intrigued again.  
"Why don't you look at them first and then see what you think."

Nodding, Shane said, "I kind of thought he might be down there somewhere but I'm sorry, I didn't think he'd find out about Lexie that quickly." Biting his lip momentarily, he ventured, "He must have been furious."  
"Oh, he wasn't terribly pleased about the situation," said Tony glancing down as though remembering, "and not all that happy to see me I think, and after getting the same run around from him about the twins that Rolf has been trying to feed me I'm afraid my mood didn't improve the situation any."  
"He still claims they don't belong to you?"  
Tony sat back, disgust etching lines into his handsome face.  
"Do you think there's any possibility," Shane asked him, "that we're wrong and he's telling the truth this time?"  
"Hell, anything's possible," Tony threw back at him, "but why go to all the trouble of locking their DNA?"  
Shane thought for a moment and then suggested, "It keeps us guessing, if nothing else."

Getting up off the crate he'd been sitting on, Tony walked out to the edge of the darkness and stared down the tunnel. "I don't know, I suppose he could be leading us on a merry chase but it's obvious that something happened all those years ago, something that was erased from my memory, and Marlena's apparently. Why would he bother?"

"In other words, you believe he's trying to cover up whatever took place down on that island," said Shane as he absently fingered the disk sitting in his pocket. "Except why would he put the letters out there for John to find?"  
"The letters all by themselves don't confirm anything and hell, John will just assume they're a figment of my imagination; that I'm trying to claim Marlena for myself," Tony sneered caustically. "Even my finding them wouldn't be a problem for Stefano. I have no way to verify any of it." He turned back to look at Shane. "It's got to be the twins. If they aren't my children and their only purpose is a means to destroying John, then why is he doing everything in his power to prevent my knowing how to use them?"

When it came to Stefano, Tony's instincts were usually pretty accurate and Shane had learned to pay attention. "Are you thinking this information about your past could be locked in their memories?"

Tony's shrug was a bit self-conscious. "I admit it's a long shot but it's still a possibility worth exploring, don't you think?"  
"But why?" Shane asked him. "I mean it doesn't make any sense, why provide you with the means to learning answers that might destroy him?"  
"Ah," said Tony with a shrewd grin. "This is Stefano we're talking about, remember? There's hardly any thrill in a game if the outcome is fixed in advance."  
Shane's smile was cynical. "Yes. The prey must have their sporting chance."  
Tony actually laughed. "Something like that, though I tend to think of it as more of a scavenger hunt. You know, all the clues fixed in advance and then he doles them out one by one to be found at the proper time. He's got the most calculating nature of anyone I've ever known."

"Well, if you want to retrieve the secrets of your past there's a much easier way of doing it than trying to get it out of the twins."  
"Oh no," Tony said, shaking his head. "You think I'd forgo a DNA test that could prove I'm not related to that monster and then allow someone to mess around with my subconscious?" He glared at Shane as though he thought he was crazy, "Someone who could be bought, I might add."  
"Oh come on Tony, I'm sure we can find a doctor…"  
"Who is immune to my father's money and power? My God Shane, he knew about Alexandra the day it happened. This town is loaded with people working for him and one of them is apparently a person none of us even suspect. Hell," laughed Tony, his frustration seeping out again, "you probably had dinner with them tonight."

It took a moment for the full weight of Tony's comment to sink in and Shane could feel his heart stop. "He told you that?"

As Tony rubbed his eyes, Shane noticed the dark circles that betrayed how little rest the man had gotten lately. Even worse, Tony didn't bother disguising his concern. That particularly worried Shane who realized that Tony was scared.  
"Well," Tony said, having trouble swallowing past a dry throat, "I uh... pointed out that he needed a backup who knew how to control the twins in case something should prevent Rolf from carrying out his duties. He said that person is already here and no one knows the difference. I knew as soon as he said it what he meant."

Leaning his head back, Shane looked imploringly at the ceiling, willing the panic rising within him back under control. It was the one thing he couldn't afford right now. Mentally, he ran through a list of the guests who'd been present to celebrate Thanksgiving and Hope's release at Tuscany's earlier that evening but other than Colin, who Shane detested, no one jumped out at him. But how could they, if they were any good at their job. He glanced back over at Tony, who'd turned to stare out into the darkness once more. "You still think it's Roman," said Shane, not entirely sure why he brought up the name again.

"You told me that you checked it out and it couldn't be him."  
Shane took a deep breath. "This is insane," he snarled in frustration. It could be anybody."  
Tony tossed a smile over his shoulder. "If it helps any, I think we can rule out Dr. Murphy."  
Raising both eyebrows, Shane was blunt. "Why?"

Without answering immediately, Tony resumed his seat back on the stack of crates near the wall and wondered for a moment how to sidestep Shane's obvious dislike of the man. Just mentioning Colin's name shortened his temper considerably. After deliberating a couple of possible avenues, Tony finally asked him, "You have any idea yet how Larry Welsh got himself released from prison ahead of schedule?"

"No," said Shane slowly, trying to discern where this question was leading. "Once I discovered he was out on the loose the priority was to find him. I figured the how could wait."  
"Stefano told me it was Colin."  
Shane frowned. "And just how would he come up with the influence or money necessary for a job like that?"  
"He's been working for Stefano," said Tony with a shrug  
But Shane didn't appear convinced. "Surely even Colin isn't stupid enough to double cross your father?"  
"I suppose that's a matter of opinion," laughed Tony, "but Stefano didn't want me to take care of the problem. He wants Colin delivered to him."  
Shane suspected whatever was coming next, he wasn't going to like it. "And?"  
"Just how grateful do you think Dr. Murphy would be if we didn't turn him over to my father?"  
Looking wary, Shane said, "I can think of a dozen things off the top of my head that could go wrong with a scenario like that."  
"Does that mean no?" asked Tony pointedly, "or just that you don't like the idea."  
"If Stefano wants to punish him for what happened with Lexie, why not?"

"Oh God, Shane, that was just an excuse, not the actual reason. He's not going to punish him," said Tony, leaning his head back against the dirt wall behind him. "I'm not sure what he's after, but I expect to find out."  
"And of course, maybe Colin will have other information that could be useful?"  
A devious smile lit up Tony's face.

"I must be nuts," said Shane looking at him, "but just how do you figure to whisk him away from the Bradys not to mention from under the eye of Stefano's informant?"  
"I'm not positive yet though I do have an idea. Did Larry's body turn up yet?"  
Shane shook his head and raised an eyebrow. "That would be a neat trick. Unless of course he's actually dead."  
"I doubt it," said Tony whose laughter sounded considerably more lighthearted suddenly. "They would have found him by now and I can't see him going anywhere near Bo without a bulletproof vest." He eyed Shane with amusement. "Larry was never stupid."

"Oh well, I'm certainly glad to hear you recognize that fact," said Shane, staring at him in disbelief, "Especially if you mean to frame him for Colin's murder."


	10. Chapter Nine

Time: New Years Eve 2002  
Place: Montreal

Tony leaned back and tried to unwind in the back of limousine he'd found waiting for him at the hotel. It was taking him out of the city. The commercial flight hadn't been terribly long, just crowded and so he'd been looking forward to some peace and solitude but instead of an empty room, there had been a stranger waiting for him at the hotel with a message.

"From Mr. Donovan," the man said, handing Tony an envelope. "Please excuse me, I'll be back shortly."

Confused and rather irritated, Tony watched him disappear into neighboring room. He glanced down at the message in his hand and ripping it open discovered a key, an address, and a brief, cryptic note from Shane. _Your evening is set. Enjoy. M is on his way._ At least the last part made sense he thought.

With a grimace, he left it sitting on the desk and poured himself a drink which he took over to the window. The city was lit up below him, spread out until it reached a dark line Tony knew was the river.

He checked his watch. Midnight was only a few hours away and on a whim, thought about calling Anna but then reminded himself about the time difference. She'd still be asleep. Why couldn't he be lying next to her instead of waiting in a hotel room for Shane to appear with Colin Murphy? Hardly Tony's idea of an amusing New Years Eve. He tried to remember the last one he and Anna spent together but couldn't and wondered to himself if he'd ever get a chance in the future to make up for it, or any of the other things he'd never done for her. All the dreams he'd promised her the day of their wedding...

"Sir?"

Turning from the window, Tony's heart jumped a beat as he stared at the figure in front of him. The stranger was gone. In his place stood a man wearing Tony's face and an expensive looking tuxedo.

"I understood from Mr. Donovan that seeing this disguise might be upsetting, so he requested that I hold off on it until you had a chance to meet me first."

Tony's anger surged quickly to a boiling point. What the hell did Shane think he was doing, pulling a stunt like this? It was bad enough that they both suspected Andre might still be alive but even minus that nasty little detail, he had to know how Tony would react to finding himself confronted with that face.

"Is everything okay?" His double stared at him in confusion and seconds ticked by before awareness began to sink in. Slowly Tony loosened his fingers that were clenched tightly around the top of the chair in front of him. He glanced away, but couldn't shake the sight of his cousin's face that leered at him with mocking eyes and he had to take several deep breaths before he managed a thin smile he hoped would be enough in the way of reassurance. "It's a bit...disconcerting."

The man's glance darted about the room until he found the note lying on the desk. "Did you read it?"  
Tony nodded.  
"Good." The man's shoulders relaxed a bit. "There is a car waiting downstairs and the driver will take you where you need to go."  
"And you'll be here." It came out more of a statement than a question but the stranger smiled as if he understood and Tony noticed they'd even copied the slight gap in his teeth. While he could understand Shane's motives in wanting to keep their meeting as secret as possible, this cloak and dagger nonsense riled him. After such a lousy day, he was in no mood to appreciate his partner's sense of humor.  
"Where am I going," he asked, without much hope he'd get an answer, "or do you even know?"  
"I believe Mr. Donovan meant for it to be a surprise." The statement carried the merest hint of reproach.  
"Well, what a shame he's not here so I could thank him personally," Tony replied, not bothering to curb his sarcasm.  
"I understand the drive isn't very far," the man said quickly. "And I took the liberty of sending your bag to the car when you first arrived."

Tony swallowed the rest of his drink and retrieved the address along with the key off the desk. "I hope you weren't planning on a wild evening," he said heading to the door. "My day was pretty exhausting so a night on the town wouldn't be too brilliant on your part."

Twenty minutes later in the limousine he still couldn't shake the image of that face, _his_ face watching him depart with a lascivious smile. "I hope you know what you're doing, Donovan," he whispered to the ceiling.

Too many things could go wrong tonight. Murphy's demise, scheduled to take place at any moment now back in Salem was, Tony admitted to himself, a calculated risk. There was no guarantee Colin would feel obliged to accept their terms. In fact, for all Tony knew, it was Stefano who'd ordered Colin to free Welsh for reasons he wasn't about to share, in which case, the good doctor's reliability was suspect. Whose side was he on? After a few months association, Tony was pretty sure Colin's main concern would be his own neck though Shane had been quick to point out that if Tony was wrong, there'd be only one alternative, eliminating him.

But the prospect of shooting Colin didn't bother Tony nearly as much as what he considered their key obstacle. Everyone, notably his father, had to be convinced Colin's fate had been governed by Larry Welsh and no simple ruse would fool Stefano. The idea of staging it at Victor's wedding seemed ideal at first but logistically it'd been a nightmare. He and Shane argued about it for days. If Colin was shot at the wedding, they could make it appear as if Welsh was responsible, but Tony worried about all the other suspects, most of whom would quickly turn and point the finger at him. When Sami had showed up at the mansion earlier that day, Tony had not concealed his displeasure. Telling him that Colin planned on killing Jack and insisting Tony do something to stop it only made the situation more untenable. Even with the alibi he'd have trouble with Roman when he returned.

And John. Tony rolled his eyes at the thought of his brother's intentions. Wouldn't he just love pinning a murder on his newly acquired DiMera sibling. Anything to wipe away the anxiety that must have eaten at him, if only briefly, that he too belonged to Stefano. Quite frankly, Tony found this aspect of the situation a thoroughly pleasing jest. After all, it had been John who used Tony's connections to justify his appalling behavior. Tony was Stefano's flesh and blood, reason enough in John's eyes for showing up the day of Tony and Kristen's wedding to hurl his accusations at Stefano and use them to impugn Tony's character. Not that he could prove any of them but Tony was a DiMera. Nothing else mattered in John's world so the picture of him living through even a tiny slice of the hell he'd invented for Tony was most gratifying.

As he turned to the window, he found the car gliding through an oversized gate and up along a drive lined with immense trees. The moon flickered between the branches as they drove on for another mile or so. And then the house, a sprawling Tudor mansion. Most of it was dark except for a couple of the windows that glowed as well as the entrance where a lantern hung from an iron hook. It certainly looked private and Tony assumed well protected considering the measures Shane had just resorted to back at the hotel.

As they pulled up to the front, he hoped there wasn't anyone waiting for him. All he cared about at the moment was finding a comfortable bed and being left alone. Shane would have to be patient.

After tipping the driver who brought his bag to the door, Tony slipped inside and found himself in a vast hallway. The chandelier overhead emitted a dim glow on the staircase leading up to the floors above and waiting for him at the bottom was Anna.

For the first time in all the years he'd know her, neither of them uttered a word. Shaking his head, he thought of Shane's note and then the face of his double back at the hotel room sporting his presumptions so blatantly.

"I seem to be getting rather careless," he said, watching a self satisfied smile curl the edges of her mouth.  
"I doubt that." Her head tilted to one side and she said, "Surprising you is by no means easy."  
"God woman, you manage that without even thinking about it, quite often on a daily basis," he laughed, walking over to join her.

His eyes sparkled with merriment as he rested his shoulder against the wall. What an incredibly welcome sight she was. Arriving in the city earlier, he'd been sure that nothing could lift his spirits after such a wretched day, but all his weariness had vanished as though she'd waved a magic wand.

"So, no complaints?" she asked playfully. He could hear the faint challenge in her voice. "I mean, if you'd rather, I could always go wake up Shane."  
"My my," he murmured, flashing her a wicked grin. "Angling for a spanking, are we?"  
Her eyes widened in mock horror. "That an offer?" she asked hanging on to her dignity for only a few seconds before trying to suppress a giggle. "Or by any chance a guarantee?"  
"Oh, Anna." He shook his head in amusement and held out his hand.

She reached up to grab on and with a smooth practiced step backwards; he lifted her off the step and into his arms. "I miss you terribly," he whispered as he buried his face in her hair and breathed in deeply. Dear God, why did he insist on torturing himself by staying away? He couldn't think of a single decent reason, at least not while the warmth of her body pressed against him and he was so tired, of the accusations and pettiness, and most especially of the reputation he clung to merely to fool Stefano. "Tell me why am I playing this stupid game again?"

"I don't know," she said, nestling her head into the curve of his shoulder with a sigh, "maybe you're a masochist?"  
Laughter rumbled through his body before he said, "I know plenty of people you might agree with you, except they'd warm me the crazy part was getting involved with you again."  
"Oooh, you are a brat," she said, smacking his arm  
He smiled indulgently. "Only what I learned from you, my love."  
"Did not. You forget that I know all about what bad boys you and Martin used to be thanks to his umm…racy stories."  
"Oh?" He'd begun nibbling her ear as one of his hands massaged the back of her neck. "I thought," he said, moving his mouth to the edge of her jaw and kissing her with those lips that left a scorching trail, "you knew better," he reached her neck, "than to trust Martin."

"What, they're lies?" she asked, trying to focus on his words while he deftly lifted the strap of her dress off her shoulder without even a pause. The fluid touch of his lips kindled vibrations that tingled through her skin and in a matter of moments she felt her breath shorten. "I mean surely, he couldn't have made them all up."

Stopping, he wound his arms around her and held her close and she could tell he was considering the possibility. "I suspect exaggerate would be the proper term," he informed her, appreciating to some degree the irony of the situation. "You know how us men can be when we begin bragging about our conquests."

"Oh, you mean you all talk like Alex, how disappointing."  
"What can I say," he said with a small smile and a shrug. "I was young, idiotic."  
She looked at him dubiously. "Sorry Tony, but it's awfully difficult trying to imagine you hanging out with the guys in a smoke filled dive somewhere, tossing back a few beers."  
"Yes, well we never drank beer," he said, his tone growing distracted again.  
"Or shared your women?"  
"No." He reached to kiss her but it lasted only a second before he froze and opened his eyes. "Where is Martin, by the way?" he asked, with a frown. "Not upstairs."  
She shook her head. "He's…well ah…actually we're in Switzerland."  
"Switzerland." Tony raised an eyebrow.  
"Yes. It's New Years so we're off skiing."  
"I see. Another double? Compliments of Shane, no doubt," he said with what sounded almost like a snicker.  
"Tony DiMera, you'd better not be complaining."  
"No, I wouldn't dream of it" he said, his smile dry though she caught a gleam of laughter in his eyes before it was swept beneath his thick lashes. Leaning over, he whispered, "I swear to express my undying appreciation to Shane but not until tomorrow."

And finally his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her with the intensity she'd craved from the minute she's seen him appear through the door. She could feel his hand tangled in her hair, one playing idly with the zipper of her dress. Vaguely she heard him kick his bag against the wall. His hands and tongue grew more insistent but after a few moments he caught himself and dropping a light kiss on her nose drew back. "You'd better point out the way to the bedroom before we end up on the floor."

Opening her eyes slowly, her mouth quivered in frustration but gently his finger slipped beneath her chin. His lips brushed across hers softly and breathed one word, "please."

She had to take a deep breath before grabbing his hand. "You used to like doing it on the floor," she teased, as they headed up the stairs, "or where ever else we happened to be."  
"Well, of course," he laughed, "And I used to be younger too."  
"And idiotic?" she said, turning to smile at him.  
His eyes glittered. "Be careful," he warned her. "I'm not too old or tired to bend you over my knee."  
"Yeah, promises, promises."

It happened so quickly that Anna didn't realize what he meant to do until she found herself hanging over his shoulder with a view of the staircase below her. "What the hell…Tony!" she yelled at him, pounding on his back when a jolt sent her clutching at his shirt to keep her balance.

"Shhh, you're going to wake up Shane, and stop that," he said, tightening his grip on her legs. "I'm trying not to drop you."  
"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.  
A chuckle floated back over his shoulder, one keen with anticipation. "Oh, just making sure I fulfill all my promises."

* * *

Someone yanked him back this time and he winced as nails gouged his shoulder and hauled him towards the bed, away from her. The breath he tried inhaling was trapped in his chest. Icy panic hammered at every nerve in his body and it was crushing him, a suffocating wave that bore down ruthlessly until he lay pinned to the mattress. In desperation he wrenched his head around. He couldn't make anything out as first but then spotted his cousin's back across the room. Behind him Anna struggled, twisting to break his grip on her arm but he slung her body roughly up against the wall and her scream seared through Tony's throbbing head.

"Oh come on…" The voice tugged at him, pleading and then insisting. "Tony, wake up."

Dark spots hovered and then converged slowly into objects, distinguishing a room, shadowy like the one in the dream but otherwise unfamiliar.

And Anna.

Relief flooded her eyes and then vanished quickly beneath a jumble of other emotions that wouldn't register coherently in his mind, wouldn't penetrate the shrouded sickening aura. His eyes burned and pressing a hand to his face, he rubbed at them but there was no escaping the futility of it. How he longed for a way to scour the images from his memory. To obliterate them, especially Anna's stricken look of betrayal that haunted him, just like Renee's so long ago.

He swallowed painfully and leaning over on his elbow, tried to sit up but instantly her hand slipped across his brow, cool, even soothing but firm and too weary to put up any resistance, he slumped back into the pillow, careful to avoid her gaze. He dreaded her questions and mercifully, she didn't force the issue. She simply lay her head beside him and relieved, he pulled her closer, wrapping her tenderly in his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead but within, his mind churned with the turmoil his nightmare had dredged to the surface.

Andre.

With some difficulty, he stifled his initial impulse. Faulting Shane would hardly provide him with any solutions, which was the only point to any of this. And anyway, the nightmares felt different somehow. The dungeon, the chain, Anna, even his cousin, they were all as he remembered but it was as if the pieces had been scrambled and rearranged, perhaps deliberately.

Admittedly he was thankful that at least their frequency had lessened but no matter what he tried, they persisted. Usually at the most inopportune moments. And there was an even more puzzling oddity; he couldn't help but notice that his nightmares were totally devoid of John's presence and that made no sense whatsoever. Why his cousin and not his brother? Under the circumstances it was, he suspected for the best, and perhaps the only reason he'd not lost his temper with the man. The prospects of a daily encounter with John strained the limits of his patience beyond any reasonable level of tolerance. And he had no doubt it would continue, each succeeding argument only worsening the situation. The one earlier that morning certainly qualified.

The thought did cross his mind that maybe he shouldn't have been surprised to find John at the cemetery. Shane mentioned he'd relayed the results of the DNA test to him and Marlena a few days earlier and so Tony had been anticipating a confrontation.

But instead of coming to the mansion, John had gone to Daphne.

Somehow it seemed so out of character for John, or more likely, a side of himself he'd never expose in front of Tony…not willingly anyhow. Neither man had expected an appearance out of the other, so when Tony reached the stone pillars near her grave, he'd paused, hesitant but most definitely curious. And as he lingered, the irony of it all caught him off guard. John, kneeling at their mother's grave, not angry or bitter Tony noted, though he'd come with questions; about her motives, about his father. And that sent Tony's memory reeling back more than twenty years to a hospital room and a day that had irrevocably shattered everything to come.

Even now, the shock resonated along with the dull empty ache he'd felt listening to her words. Stefano was not his father.

If only he'd realized back then what his mother's admission would cost them; her life, and Renee's, Kristen's, even John's had been wreaked. All because she wished for Tony to be free.

And suddenly the thought of her sacrifice being wasted one more time was unbearable, not when the opportunity existed right in front of him to remedy at least this one mistake. He and John shared a connection, a link. Surely it would count for something to a man who'd lived so long with no answers but John made it abundantly clear he had no interest in overtures of peace, only grinding Tony and every other DiMera into dust.

"What a bloody mess," he thought to himself with a sigh, which he instantly regretted as Anna stirred beside him.  
"When did you start dreaming again about Andre?"

Despite her seemingly curious demeanor, he sensed her apprehension, and cursed himself. He didn't even want to remember the damn thing himself, much less describe it to her. He shifted his body so he could see her face. "It doesn't matter," he said, running a finger lightly across her shoulder.

She opened her mouth to argue but prepared now, he slipped her body beneath him and his brief kiss left a burning in its wake. "Surely" he said, trying to sound amused, "we can find something better to do than discussing Andre."

"Tony," she whispered. Her eyes peered anxiously into his own, "I'm worried about you."

He smiled, and his eyes, deceptively calm wandered along with his finger as it traced the curve of her cheek and then glided provocatively across her lips. "I'm fine," he murmured, and smoothed away a strand of hair trapped between her eyelashes. "I promise." This time his mouth brushed her lips softly with tranquil ease until she grabbed his shoulder to pull him closer and obligingly, he sank down and allowed her desire to utterly sweep away the last vestiges of his nightmare, leaving simply her tantalizing scent, her tongue swirling against his own so enticingly it left him breathless.

When he finally opened his eyes, he found her watching him. He could tell instantly she'd not been fooled by his performance but she appeared to be resigned. "And you call me a tease," she grumbled at him, and Tony couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to smirk back at her.

"This was your idea, remember? After all, you could be skiing, in…where was it, San Moritz?"  
"Oh yeah, sure," she said, laughing in disgust. "You do recall what a lousy skier I am."  
"Ah, but those nights in front of the fire, you thoroughly enjoyed those," he reminded her, his long lashes fanning his eyes in the most irresistible way.  
Anna sighed. "Yes I did," and then after a second thought, glared up at him reproachfully. "I do believe you're trying to put ideas in my head."  
Tony's eyes danced with mischief. "When it comes to a rich man, love, you don't need anyone sticking ideas in your head, you're an expert."  
"And you're a snot," she said, as her hand snaked beneath the covers.  
"Oh no you don't," he said, locking his gaze on her. "Don't you dare tickle me, woman."  
"I don't know." He could see she was biting her lip to keep a grin in check while a solitary fingernail began sliding down the side of his abdomen. "Sounds to me like you need…"  
"I need supper, is what I need," he told her, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips.  
"Supper? Didn't they feed you on the plane?"  
His lip curled at the thought. "Airline food." He closed his eyes with a shudder.  
"Well, the cook is…"  
"Asleep, yes I should hope so, and besides, we don't need him," he said, planting a kiss in the middle of her palm, "or her."  
"What's this we business?"  
"What," he asked innocently enough, "you don't want to come down and…at least watch?"  
"Tony," she said, a familiar whine creeping into her voice, "its cold."  
The mischievous gleam reappeared. "That's not a problem," he said sitting up and with one swift movement, yanked the covers from the bed.

"You…" She flew off the pillows so fast, he had to dive to catch her arms and legs and riding the momentum of her body, scooped her into his arms. Her eyes flashed back at him, indignantly but she didn't struggle this time and after chancing a peck on her cheek, he deposited her gently at the closet door.  
"Hurry, and you'll stay warmer," he told her, with only the ghost of a smile.

* * *

A short time later, her legs curled neatly into a rocking chair, Anna relaxed in relative comfort, considering it wasn't the bed. At least there was champagne and already the side of her body facing the old kitchen hearth had grown toasty enough she didn't need the collar of the robe clutched tightly about her neck. In fact she'd have to discard it soon. When they'd come down, Tony had stirred the embers and built up the fire so high it was probably warming the icy flagstones.

"Sure you wouldn't care for a glass of brandy?" he asked, with a brief glance in her direction.

He'd collected a variety of ingredients and begun heating pots. Across from the stove stood an immense island, long like ones she'd seen in restaurant kitchens, except it was wooden. Piled atop this one was a steak marinating in something he'd concocted, an assortment of vegetables she assumed were the makings of a salad, and his champagne, very nearly empty, again.

"No," she shook her head. She didn't figure he'd dragged her down here purposely to talk but it seemed as good a time as any. Champagne she could drink all night but not brandy.  
"You haven't told me much about the twins," she said, staring down at her glass, idly noticing the way the firelight reflected through the stem and beamed shafts of color off the fluted edges. "So, what are they like?"

He didn't reply immediately and when she lifted her head, he seemed miles away. He'd been chopping celery and it was still in his hand, but the knife rested sideways, his fingers wrapped around the handle. On his face he wore an expression that radiated bemused awe. After a moment he sensed her eyes on him and turned so that the glow from the fire accentuated every angled contour along his face. A faint smile crept up and he shook his head at her in amazement. "They're perfect."

She smiled back at him, amused.  
"Truly," he said as his own smile slid awry. "They're charmingly honest, handsome, brilliant, most especially when it comes to getting their own way, and," he raised both eyebrows, "hormonal."  
The smile on her face quickly dissolved into laughter. "Oh lord, what would you say the chances are this is how Stefano means to ruin you? A couple of randy teenagers," she said, raising her champagne glass. "Shit, they probably belong to John."  
"I'm afraid not," he said so softly she barely heard him over the sharp strokes of the knife hitting the table top.  
"What?"

He took a few more swipes at the celery, obviously frustrated but then quit, carefully setting down the knife in front of him. "They're not John's children," he said, his voice low but undeniably touchy.  
"Oh Tony," she said, bewildered at his sudden change of attitude, "it was a joke."

But he squeezed his eyes shut and his anxiety was painfully evident, if only for a few seconds just as she'd witnessed it earlier in the aftermath of his nightmare, and her heart froze on that single petrifying thought.

Of all the sadistic behavior she knew Stefano capable of, this would constitute a new low, even for him. To send Tony his cousin's children in the guise of saviors, taunting him. The one thing he'd denied Tony from the moment he'd wrung that confession out of him all those years ago, the moment he's learned Tony wasn't his. It was like some awful curse that continued stalking them.

"Anna?"  
She could hear what he was thinking. He assumed she was pouting because he'd been short with her and in a perverse way it was a relief, something normal to hang onto. Meeting his eyes, she gulped down some champagne and pasted on a smile as she grit her teeth.  
"Look, I apologize, I'm not upset with you," he began, "I…"  
"Do they belong to Andre?" she asked, blurting it out before she lost her nerve.  
"Andre? No…no darling," he said quickly, chagrin spreading across in his face. "They're not Andre's. Oh God…" He swallowed uncomfortably as the idea took hold for a brief second, but only in passing before his gaze drifted back to her. "I didn't mean to frighten you that way."  
He hesitating for just a moment, and then switched off the flame under both pots and pulled a stool over next to her chair and sat down. The warmth in his eyes reassured her to some degree except for that disturbing spark of something lurking in their depths. "They're mine."

At first she didn't react at all. It wasn't what she'd been expecting though from looking at him, she could tell he was serious and when her eyes widened with incredulity, he grinned back.

"Yes," he nodded. "My children."

"Tony, that's…" But the euphoria dissipated before she could even finish expressing it as the rest of the picture suddenly dawned on her. And one glance at his face confirmed it all. That was the reason he'd been upset about her comment, it had nothing whatsoever to do with his dream.

"Well," she sniped, jumping up from the chair, "I guess now we know what the old bastard was up to."

An awkward silence ensued as she emptied the last of the champagne bottle into her glass. Marlena. She couldn't believe she hadn't expected something like this and yet, how? Marlena had always been Stefano's obsession. Why on earth would either of them even suspect a move such as this but of course the rationalization didn't curtail her fury at the injustice of it all, not after everything she'd been forced to give up. The baby she'd lost. All those years without him, and now to end up with Tony's children belonging to the one person who'd gotten everything else too. God, why did it have to be Marlena? It was always Marlena. She felt as though every nerve in her body were being dragged through barbed wire.

Veering about, she leaned an elbow on the table but it still took a moment before she was able to pry her lips apart and manage in an even, if rather icy manner, "I suppose congratulations are in order."

Though his eyes regarded her with sympathy, he didn't even flinch and that only made her angrier.

"Tell me, does our recipient for mother of the year know yet?"  
"Anna, don't start..."  
"The hell I won't," she broke in, temper flaring at his defense of her, "you don't get to tell me how to feel about this...this," her smile only bared her teeth, "charming little family you're starting with Marlena."  
He lifted an eyebrow. "I see. You'd be happier about the whole thing if their mother were Kristen, or Renee, or nearly anyone else."  
She frowned at him. "Maybe," but as he continued to stare at her, she turned away. "Okay yes, alright?" and slammed her glass down on the table. "Damn it, why did it have to be her, of all people."

There was silence for a moment and then in a dry tone he said, "It could be worse as you pointed out a few minutes ago my dear. At least they don't belong to you and Andre."

"Oh Tony, that is really despicable."  
"Yes well," he said, folding his arms. "I'm not the one who suggested it."  
She glared at him. "I wasn't suggesting...oh you'd just love that, wouldn't you?"

Rising from the stool his movements were so deliberate she fully expected him to pick it up and throw it. Instead he walked back to the stove to turn up the heat again and retrieved a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator. Setting it on the table, he shot her a brief searing look before grabbing a towel and proceeding to pull the cork from the bottle. He filled his glass but didn't touch it. When he finally spoke, his emotions were still raw. "I'd love any child you brought into this world," he said, meeting her gaze. "Even one that belonged to him."

Anna winced. She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears and tried to turn away but his hand caught her chin.  
"Don't you know," he said, exasperation heightening every word, "the person I'm concerned about here is you."  
"Tony, you…you don't understand…"  
"How scared you are?" He shook his head and his bleak laughter tore through her. "Oh believe me, I do."  
She leaned her head back and the tears came spilling down her cheeks. After a moment when she was able to find her voice again, she said, "That's not very reassuring."

"Oh Anna," he said looking back down at the table. Her head swam with too many conflicting thoughts but he didn't give her a chance to sort any of them out before he reached for the champagne bottle and topped off her glass. "Then marry me."

The expression on his face was rueful but his eyes, gleaming like burnished ebony in the light from the fire, regarded her with an intensity he concealed more often than not these days.

And for some unexplainable reason, this frightened her far more. "What about Stefano?"  
"That problem we may never be rid of," he told her gently. "Even if he's in jail." And then the corner of his mouth twitched. "Or dead."  
"But last summer…"  
"Last summer I…" he glanced away. "Well, I felt guilty about getting you involved in this mess again."  
His admission floored her momentarily but then the indignation welled up and her face was burning. "After everything that happened before…how could you…"

"I know," he said loud enough to drown out the tirade he figured was brewing. "But it's a bit late for either of us to be making excuses about the way we feel, don't you think?"

And there it was again, that terrible honesty of his with its keen edge that sliced to the crux of any situation. It drove her crazy when he did that but of course he had his own fears, and after everything that had happened over the last twenty years, what a fool he'd be to ignore them. Still, she hesitated.

"And Marlena?"  
Tony took a deep breath and she could see his temper beginning to disintegrate. "This is not about her being their mother, is it? It's about her being in Salem…damn, I don't believe we're even having this discussion," he said, rubbing his eyes. "For heaven's sake woman, when was I ever interested in Marlena?"  
"Well, she's…she's beautiful and smart and…"  
"And if you recall, quite available on both occasions when I was in Salem."  
"Oh come on Tony, things change."

When his laughter erupted, it took her completely by surprise and all at once he was in front of her, his hand wrapped around her waist, pressing her body tightly up to his own. "You silly, adorable creature," he chuckled, kissing her with fiery quickness. "You're still jealous."  
"I am not…"  
But his lips continued doing indescribable things to her senses.  
"…and just as infuriating and as you ever were…" he whispered.  
"Am I?" She tried to swallow when her breath caught in her throat. "Then I guess you're stuck."  
He blinked at her. "Is that a yes?"  
She nodded. "But I've got news for you Tony DiMera, I have no intention of waiting around for the next six months."  
Grinning, he said. "How does tomorrow sound?"  
"Lovely, as long as you don't burn the house down first," she laughed, gesturing at the smoke that was rising from one of the pans behind him.


	11. Chapter Ten

Time: New Year's Day 2003  
Place: Montreal

Shane checked the contents of the email one more time before gliding the curser over the send button and clicking his mouse. The computer which belonged to an old friend long since retired from the agency was already programmed with Patrick's latest code. Unfortunately, its usefulness wouldn't last more than a month, maybe two. A new one was on their list of projects that included too many other things, like their ISA work, the twins' DNA, and now, finding a bolt hole to stash Murphy if Tony was right about him. Shane still had his doubts.

Swiveling his chair around to the one-way picture sized window, Shane leaned back and watched Murphy's pacing. Having polished off breakfast, Colin had done some investigating of his tiny cell and now appeared restless though he hadn't pounded on the window yet, or tried yelling to get anyone's attention. In fact, Shane got the impression that he expected a particular individual to come walking through the door, and not necessarily the one he was going to get.

A missed opportunity perhaps. They should have arranged for an actor to impersonate Stefano, just to see how Colin reacted. It might have provided them with a more accurate picture of what was truly going on, because Shane suspected the tie between them ran deeper than merely business.

Something about the man grated on Shane. He'd listened to Bo's tirade about him as they'd worked together finding Hope, several times in fact but then he'd been forced to listen to Bo going on about Tony for hours too. Yes, Colin worked for Stefano and he had questionable habits. But Shane had plenty of experience with sleazy characters over the years and besides, he found Shawn's fondness for his nephew completely out of line considering Bo's attitude. Shawn Sr. was almost _over_ protective and Shane had witnessed a rather unpleasant scene one day at lunch when he'd lit into Bo and told him to knock off with the continual ragging on his cousin. Wisely, Bo had not argued back, but Shane knew both he and his brother worried about their father's health even more than his feelings.

After that day, he was positive that Shawn knew more about Colin, things he kept to himself but when Shane tried to draw him out, Shawn clammed up immediately, told Shane that he ought to be concentrating on the real problem; Tony DiMera. Whatever his secret, it worried the elder Brady enough that he didn't want to share it with his sons and that caused Shane more than his share of sleepless nights during the previous month.

And of course there was the file.

One of Stefano DiMera's personal files detailing Murphy's past. Too bad they couldn't get their hands on it but its contents had to be damning enough or Colin wouldn't have agreed to shoot his cousin when Welsh threatened to send the file to the ISA.

"Ah, good morning." Tony greeted him as he stepped into the room and shut the heavy metal door behind him. Shane noted how pleased he sounded with himself.  
"Aren't you a bit early?" he asked, his tone dry.  
Tony shook his head. "You know Anna; she's never been a morning person."  
"I probably wouldn't be either if you dragged me out of bed at two in the morning."  
Making a beeline over to the window to get a look at Colin, Tony leaned up against the wall so that Shane had only a partial view of his face. "I'm sorry, were we that noisy?"  
"No, I just happened to be up checking on our guest here," said Shane, trying to sound nonchalant, "and I felt like some tea…"

For a split second, so brief in fact that Shane thought he might have imagined it, Tony actually appeared to be embarrassed but it vanished quickly beneath a smile and a shrug. "Oh, that. We were celebrating and we ah…well, you know," he finished, deliberately avoiding Shane's eyes as he scanned the room for coffee.

But Shane couldn't resist. "Celebrating?"

Spotting a carafe on a table near the door, Tony ignored the question until he'd poured himself some lukewarm coffee. Facing Shane with his cup, he announced, "We're getting married." And then, as a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, he added, "Again."

Shane felt an immediate urge to swear at him but caught himself in time. In view of the lousy situation, they certainly had as much right as anyone else to grab a little happiness. They'd waited long enough. And it hardly seemed fair asking them to put it off simply because it would make Shane's job less complicated.

"I know," Tony said quietly, as if reading his mind.

Shane raised his eyes from the computer keyboard he'd been staring at to find Tony gazing back at him apologetically. Forcing a smile onto his face, Shane managed to say in polite tone, "Well, thanks but I doubt she'd feel that was a decent enough excuse to put off whatever plans the two of you have."

"It's not exactly something I planned on doing…"  
"No, but you were thinking about it." Shane finished for him.  
Tony nodded. "I should never have allowed Stefano's behavior to influence me the way it did before," he said, his regret obvious. "Definitely a mistake on my part."  
"You don't know that," Shane argued, though silently, he couldn't quite stifle the guilt that rose up hauntingly like a specter, reminding him of his own mistakes. "Staying out of her life might be the reason she's still alive, unlike Kristen."

"Perhaps," said Tony, frowning, "on the other hand…" but he didn't continue his thought and after a moment's awkward silence, he shrugged. "At this point, all I care about is her and the twins. Walking away the first time was…" a grimace shot across his face and he looked down. "It's not going to happen again, which reminds me," he said, his eyes darting up to Shane's, "I have a favor to ask of you."

Shane made a show of sighing impatiently. "Another one?"  
"Yes well, I'm afraid we need a witness."  
"A witness?" laughed Shane, "hell you need a justice of the peace."  
"I took care of that already," Tony informed him casually.  
Impressed, Shane chuckled at the thought that when he was motivated, it was amazing what Tony was able to accomplish. "It's not even nine o'clock on New Year's morning."  
But Tony merely smiled.  
"I see, keeping secrets, are we? And I guess if it's not me, you'll have to ask the cook."

"Damn," said Tony, his frown definitely mocking, "I forgot about her, but if I really get desperate, I suppose I could always ask Colin," he grinned, nodding towards the window.  
"That'd be a brilliant way to jinx your wedding."

Mischievousness flashed in Tony's eyes. "I guess you've never heard the story of our first wedding? I doubt even Colin could top that, and here we are," he chuckled, almost to himself, "despite everything."

Shane turned to smirk at the computer. The story of Tony and Anna's first ceremony had made its way around town several times in fact, and Shane remembered that he'd been shocked at the time, and not because she'd gotten him drunk. Their relationship, thoroughly entertaining by any standards, had kept tongues wagging in Salem for years and yet it had survived long past many others he could name that started out more promisingly. Perhaps because neither had any illusions about the other. "You did tell her about Marlena," said Shane suddenly.

Surprised at the change of subject, Tony hesitated before he asked, "You mean about the twins?"  
"I mean about everything," Shane said, eyeing him pointedly and immediately noticed the annoyance that flashed across Tony's face before his expression became more guarded.  
"I told her what I know for certain, which at the moment entails keeping Stefano happy, and what we suspect about Cassie and Rex."  
A frown creased Shane's forehead. "You're the one who was so sure about the letters."  
"That's not the same as remembering," Tony informed him in a stiff voice.  
"Now, you're splitting hairs."

The fact that Tony paused a moment to consider the implications, and didn't take exception at his partner's intrusion into his relationship made Shane appreciate just how much he cared about her. He wasn't just latching on because he was lonely. And accepting that fact made him ask himself how on earth had Tony found the strength to walk away all those years ago? How had he managed to stay away, especially after Anna moved to Europe?

"To tell you the truth, I haven't figured out what to do or say about the letters," Tony admitted to him finally.

With visions of his own past running through his memory, Shane asked, "You think it won't make a difference to her that you were aware of their existence beforehand and chose not to tell her?"  
Instead of the smart ass remark Shane was expecting, Tony chuckled. "This isn't Marlena we're talking about."  
"No, it's not," Shane agreed. "And I've heard more than my share of stories about Anna's jealousy, several that are still legendary in Brady circles."  
"I'm sure they are," he laughed, apparently unconcerned.  
Confused, Shane kept silent, waiting.  
"Anna and I, we ah…well, it's hard to explain our peculiar version of trust. It's certainly not the normal everyday variety, not with our history so perhaps the only way to put it is to say that we honor our connection, even when it isn't necessarily evident to anyone else." He shrugged. "We're rather fond of elbow room and spontaneity as opposed to…"  
"Yes?" Shane finally prompted after a long pause but Tony just shook his head.  
"If something happened between Marlena and I all those years ago, Anna won't be thrilled by any means, but the reason for that is complicated," he said, amusement in his voice, but not his eyes. "I tease her about being jealous, but that's not it really. You see, she's insecure, at least when it comes to me and although we both share responsibility for that, I'd rather not compound the problem without a better reason than what we've got so far."

Shane bit back the laughter that welled up at this response. Most people who didn't know Tony would assume that little performance was meant as reassurance, but Shane knew exactly what he meant…butt out. And he did it with such elegance that getting upset with him was simply out of the question. "Well, what time do you need me to be there?"

The surprise on Tony's face gave way to a look of gratitude, a look Shane had rarely ever seen. "Four o'clock."  
Shane nodded. "Okay, I suppose I can handle that, but no pictures."  
"That's rather the least of our problems, don't you think?"  
Deciding it was better to act as though the question was rhetorical, Shane asked. "So did you bring it with you?"  
"Yes," said Tony, thinking back to their last telephone conversation, "Yes, I brought it, but it's a bloody waste of time if you ask me."  
"My time," Shane reminded him as he reached over to the keyboard.  
"I'm still not so sure he didn't fabricate the whole thing but even if he didn't, whatever the hell went on back in Ireland all those years ago doesn't matter. He's merely using it to rile me."  
Shane ignored the outburst. "Tell me again, exactly."

Perturbed, Tony leaned up against the table behind him. "Alright, suit yourself," he grumbled, setting down his cold coffee, and picking up the phone to call down to the kitchen for a fresh pot. After he hung up, he folded his arms across his chest, his disgust still clearly evident. "There was an affair. He didn't mention names, except to say the woman was a Brady and her lover, some member of the DiMera family. Sounded like it might have been one of his brothers, but that's just my impression. Anyway there was a child."

"The child he accuses Shawn Brady of murdering."  
"No, actually, he accused him of two murders."  
That got Shane's attention quickly. "Who, the child's father?"  
Tony's gaze drifted away, and he seemed troubled. "According to what he's written in the journal, he and my mother's eldest son."  
"I thought you were her..."  
"Me too." Tony said, not bothering to let him finish.  
Shane glanced over with a frown. "So, you're not buying any of it? Why?"

"Come on Shane, think about it. You know how my fa…Stefano operates, he's a master at manipulating the truth, twisting until it no longer even resembles its original form." Tony's mouth settled into a bitter line. "Until it becomes even more monstrous than a lie. I have little doubt about the fact that something happened between the two of them, or at least between the two families, Shawn's behavior lately only makes me more certain, but I wouldn't be expecting to find the truth of it in that journal, if I were you.

"Yes," said Shane, looking down for a moment, uncomfortable about having to witness Tony's pain that slipped to the surface as he spoke about the past. "I think you're right about Shawn. He's definitely hiding a secret from everyone, except I get the strangest feeling that if Colin doesn't know what it is, he's somehow connected."

Tony's gaze shot over to the window where he could see Colin, still pacing back and forth across his cell. "How?"  
"That's why I wanted the journal."  
"You might be disappointed because it doesn't even mention Colin."  
"No, but there are dates, correct?"  
Tony just shook his head at him. "It's a waste of time, but no matter. The journal is up in my room and I'll make sure you have it before you leave, though I'd appreciate you copying it as soon as possible. I'd rather Bart and Rolf not get wind it's missing. I don't know that either of them suspects Stefano is alive, but after his last message, I'm afraid it's possible that one of them could be providing our unknown friend with information."  
Shane didn't like the sound of this one bit. "That's not good."  
"No, and I'm starting to loathe that house." Tony was scowling, his eyes on Colin but Shane could tell he wasn't really paying any attention to him. "Between John who insists on planting bugs every chance he gets and a staff I can't trust, I feel like I'm living in a fishbowl."

Shane rubbed his eyes. "If that's the case, I have to wonder how much longer we can keep this up. You know it is possible Stefano is onto us already and just playing you."  
"My, isn't that a cheerful thought," laughed Tony, despite sounding thoroughly disgusted.  
"I'm serious," said Shane, leveling a stern gaze in his partner's direction but Tony's laughter, now sounding hopeless, continued on for another few moments before he finally relented.  
"Sorry, but I've been expecting that from the beginning. I've always known it was just a matter of time before he figured out what I was up to," said Tony, eyeing him carefully. "Come on, admit it, so did you."  
Shane had to nod in agreement, but at the same time a new possibility occurred to him. "Perhaps, we should try using John's bug to our advantage."  
"You mean, let him hear that you've been lying to him all this time?"  
"Maybe if he finds out that way…"  
But a burst of laughter interrupted this thought. "You didn't see our little brotherly reunion at the cemetery yesterday," Tony informed him bitterly. "He's even angrier with me now then when I arrived in town. If it wasn't for Marlena, he wouldn't be bothering with the listening devices, no doubt I'd find him in my living room with a gun. Hell, just sending those flowers earned me a sore jaw."  
Shane had to hide his smile behind his hand. "Yes well, you've certainly hit a nerve when it comes to Marlena."  
"Kind of makes me wonder about the stability of that marriage," Tony said with a snort. "He's acting pretty insecure these days."  
"After the lengths your father has gone to trying to steal her away, wouldn't you be?"

Taking another deep breath, Tony nodded, though he didn't look pleased. "I feel like we're getting nowhere lately, it's just so damn frustrating," he snarled.  
"In that case, why don't we see what kind of information our guest has for us." said Shane, standing up and hitting a button beneath his desk. Colin's cell door popped open.  
Smiling at Tony, Shane gestured at the door. "All yours."

Colin stood waiting as Tony entered. His eyes narrowed for a moment and then glanced at the window before darting over to rest on Tony again. "Where is he?"  
"He?" Tony had to swallow his grin. "I presume you're talking about my father."  
"Damn it, Tony. Don't play with me."  
Tony didn't both to cover up his laugher now. "Or what? I think you're hardly in a position to be setting any parameters for this little discussion. In fact, you're lucky to be here at all." he told Colin with a cold glare. "My sister nearly ended up in prison, thanks to you."

The confusion on Colin's face appeared to be genuine. "I don't know what kind of game this is, but whatever I did for Welsh, I was ordered to do, exactly in the same way all the other instructions were delivered to me, since the first day I began working for the old man. It all came from Rolf."

_What a surprise_, Tony thought sarcastically, and then to Colin, "So, Rolf ordered you to arrange Larry's release?"  
"Yes," Colin insisted emphatically.  
Tony stared, the expression on his face deathly still.  
"Ask him," Colin said, looking at the window again, the merest hint of desperation creeping into his voice.  
"Oh Colin," Tony purred. "Who do you think gave me the information that led to you?"  
A trickle of sweat appeared on Colin's forehead and ran slowly down the side of his face. "Stefano told you that I was responsible?"  
"Oh yes. With much glee I might add. He spilled every detail of your operation."  
Swallowing convulsively, Colin shook his head. "Tony…I swear to you…"  
"What? You were only following my father's orders?" Tony snapped.  
"I don't understand why he would tell you something like this, these orders came from him, for heaven's sake." The desperation in his eyes was growing and he'd backed up until he hit the far wall.  
Tony decided that it was time to try out his theory about Rolf. "How do you know for sure the orders came from Stefano?"  
"Because it was Rolf," Colin yelled back at him, as though it should have been obvious.  
Tony shrugged. "Perhaps Rolf was delivering the message for someone else this time."  
"Someone else? Rolf works for _your_ father."

"Rolf works for the DiMera family," Tony informed him, his eyes boring into Colin's. "Not just my father. For all we know Rolf had an agenda of his own, or there is someone else in the family with a reason to harm my sister and the money necessary to sway dear old Rolf."  
Colin opened his mouth but paused. He eyed Tony suspiciously. "You're fishing," he said, breathing a bit easier.  
But Tony shook his head. "I told you, Stefano is the one who requested I set up this meeting."  
"Then I…I don't understand." Colin's fear was beginning to get the better of him.

"Yes, obviously," Tony sneered. At that moment came a knock on the window. Colin jumped. "I suggest you think long and hard about remembering all the details of your conversations with the good doctor," Tony instructed him, as he turned to the door and waited for it to unlatch, "because I'll be expecting to hear about every last one of them when I return."

Back in the office space with Shane, Tony looked at him questioningly and Shane pointed to the computer.  
"What?" Tony asked, but one more glance in Shane's direction was enough to tell him that something was terribly wrong. Grabbing his glasses from his pocket, he sat down in front of the screen where there was an email, from Patrick. Just two short sentences.

"DNA test complete. Colin Murphy is the biological son of Andre DiMera."

"Oh shit," whispered Tony.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Time: New Year's Day 2003

Place: Montreal

Shane glanced through the window at Colin, now sitting on his cot, head in his hands, and then back at Tony. Though his face was hidden, it was obvious to Shane that Tony grasped what a potential disaster they'd created for themselves. No wonder Stefano wanted to get his hands on Colin. But did he know for sure, or had he merely guessed that Colin was Andre's child? Perhaps Tony was wrong, and Stefano wrote the truth as he knew it in the journal.

What if the only person aware of the truth was Shawn Brady? The man wasn't meek by any standard. If he considered Stefano or his family a threat, he could have faked Colin's death as a way to fool them, just as he and Tony were attempting to do right now.

"Shawn must know."

Tony's head whipped around to stare at him silently, and then, "It's a possibility," he allowed grudgingly. His eyes traveled past Shane to gaze through the window. "But I doubt he'll be sharing it with Roman or John, or even you," he added as an afterthought, "and besides, I'd say the problem we need to concentrate on at the moment is determining what Colin knows."

"Oh, I'd reconsider if I were you." Shane tilted his head to catch Tony's eye. "Just who do you think will be at the top of Shawn Brady's suspect list now that he believes Colin is dead?"

And Shane's insinuation sent waves of cold fear washing over Tony. "The person with reason to hate Andre more than anyone else," he replied, shutting his eyes as the realization hit him. "Me."

"As vigilantly as he has guarded this secret Tony, he'd never continue to do so and leave a member of his own family or a close friend in danger," Shane told him.

But Tony wasn't so sure. "This doesn't make any sense. I mean he had to at least be suspicious of Colin's activities over the last few years. He certainly knew that Colin was my doctor and I have little doubt he imagined that was the extent of our working relationship. Why not warn you to keep an eye on him? Isn't that more Shawn's style?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm rather surprised too," said Shane, and Tony thought he detected a slight air of criticism. "You're right, it's not what I'd expect but we haven't been privy to the entire story and I'm hoping there is more of it in Stefano's journal than you think. Quite frankly, we don't know for sure that Shawn didn't tell Colin, or that Colin didn't find out on his own."

"Maybe, but after watching him for the past few months, I can tell you, he's just not that talented in the acting department and if Shawn did this because of Stefano, I can't see him confiding in his nephew. Colin hasn't exactly kept his affiliation with my family as quiet as he should have."

"What about Stefano?" Shane asked. "Do you think he knows or only suspects?"

"Oh he knows," said Tony, without the slightest hesitation in his voice.

Shane nodded thoughtfully, "Which means, he'll likely come up with the same idea as Shawn about who the responsible party might be."

"Well, then we'll just have to work harder to point them in a different direction," Tony snapped back. "Which shouldn't be all that difficult, considering Colin's ability to make friends and play nicely with others," he observed sarcastically. "Hell, everyone at that wedding could be a suspect, not to mention quite a few people who weren't even invited."

"I'm afraid Jack Devereux has already stepped forward to claim the honor, I assume with the belief he's covering for someone else."

Tony dropped his head into his hands. "What a bloody nightmare."

"Yes, and I'm afraid it's even worse than that," Shane informed him, nodding at the window.

Narrowing his eyes, Tony's glance traveled from Shane to his view of Colin, still huddled on the cot and then back again. "I guess I'm being a bit dense, but what?"

"Well, even if Colin isn't aware of it yet, how the hell do you expect that we're going to keep it from him? Indefinitely? Especially since Stefano already knows?"

"It sounds to me like too many people already know."

"Exactly," said Shane, his fist hammering the window sill to emphasize his point but Tony remained quiet, either out of confusion or because he hoped to avoid the inevitable. He sank back in his chair, forcing Shane to spell it out.

"You do remember the conversation we had, the one about consequences," Shane reminded him. "What we'd have to do if we learned he was somehow involved, or more closely tied to Stefano than we thought."

For just a moment, Tony grew still and he studied Shane's face with a stunned expression, as though he were seeing a stranger. "You want to kill him because he got stuck sharing my cousin's DNA?"

Shane's eyes blazed furiously. "That's not the extent of the reason and you bloody well know it," he swore at him with a stinging tone in his voice. "Damn it Tony, do you really want to end up dead, or locked away again in some tiny little room, because I guarantee you, even if he's as innocent as the day he was born, the truth will come out, and I'm just afraid you could be the one who ends up paying."

"Why, because that's what happened to you?" Tony inquired, the merest hint of curiosity gleaming in his dark eyes.

"Forget me," Shane snapped at him impatiently. "God, Andre is probably still alive and I think we both know, given a decision like that, the choice Colin would make."

"I don't like this any better than you do," Tony bit back, "but I'm not going to shoot the man without a decent reason."

Exasperated, Shane spun around and slammed his fist against the window. How had he ever let Tony talk him into doing this he wondered for the umpteenth time and cursed himself for going along with the idea without getting Patrick to run the DNA test first.

And no matter what the Bradys believed about Tony, Shane knew they were wrong. He'd feel responsible for Colin now. That was something neither of them could afford under the circumstances, so it was time to use whatever means necessary to change his mind. "You don't care about your own survival, eh," said Shane, turning back to face him, "then what about your children?"

But his question didn't alter the obstinate expression etched into Tony's face. "The minute you prove to me that he's knowingly done something to hurt the twins or Alexandra, then I'll pull the trigger myself, but not like this."

"And now who's allowing his past to cloud his judgment?"

"Alright, yes," Tony hissed, "Yes I am." He eyed Shane coldly for several moments before he continued. "And don't bother telling me that you understand because I can promise you that you have not the slightest conception of what the last six months have been like." His head shook back and forth slowly. "You don't know just how supremely tempted I am to disappear right now. Take the twins and Anna and vanish. I could almost care less about what happens to anyone in that miserable town, least of all that self righteous little bastard my mother gave birth to. How I dream of shoving one of those letters down his throat." His eyes closed. "If Andre is truly Colin's father, he has my deepest sympathies, and I hope for his sake that neither he, nor anyone else ever learns the truth."

"That quite admirable, but it won't keep you alive." Shane insisted.

"No, maybe not," Tony agreed surprisingly enough, "but it is my decision to make."

The rigid cast of Shane's features softened just a bit. "Don't do this Tony," he said, eyeing his partner with a mixture of frustration and sympathy in his gaze. "I may not be in your shoes but I do have some idea of how...grueling the situation has been. Thanksgiving was hardly the pleasant or easy affair I've come to expect, not in the midst of having to listen to these people I always considered to be honorable vent their disappointment. As much as I hate to admit it, too many of them would have been happier if you and your sister were both guilty, so yes, I've seen first hand just what a challenge you've taken on, but Colin isn't you. He doesn't give a damn about anything but himself. He's truly his father's son."

Tony squeezed his eyes shut hearing this last statement. "My, how many times has that snide remark been flung in my direction. The insult of choice in Salem for John and so many others and how they cling to it, not because it's true or makes any sense, but it is awfully damn convenient," he said in a smooth almost conversational voice that belied the sharp icy look in his eyes. "And of course it eases their conscious. Makes it perfectly acceptable to seduce my fiancé and ruin my marriage. Hell, I must have deserved it since I had to be just as despicable as my father. Amazing thing, DNA, isn't it?"

"Tony…"

"No damn it, I will not do to Colin what everyone has spent years wishing they could do to me. The man deserves a chance at least."

"A chance for what," yelled Shane, finally loosing his temper. "To hand you over to his father, your head on a platter?"

Before Tony opened his mouth, they were both startled by a knock on the door.

They'd forgotten about the coffee, but it wasn't a servant who entered but Anna with a carafe in her hand, and wearing a brilliant smile that quickly melted away once she sensed the friction between the two men. "What's the matter?" She glanced from Tony, whose temper simmered very near the boiling point, over to Shane. If possible, he looked even angrier, as though he might take a swing at anyone available, but preferably Tony.

Neither answered her question. Slamming the carafe down on a table, she leaned her back up against the door and glared at both of them. "I'm waiting," she informed them, the tone in her voice dropping several degrees.

Tony turned his head away and she heard his sigh. She could see the slump in his shoulders and as her eyes veered again to Shane, he too suddenly looked tired.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him," Shane told her, with sarcasm on his way past her. "I need some air," and he disappeared through the door.

Once Shane was gone, the silence lengthened and Tony made no effort to respond to her presence. "Are you going to tell me what is going on?" she finally asked him once again.

He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and then faced her. "Well, we've been having a marvelous time, discussing Andre's offspring."

"Off…" Her eyes grew wide. "You mean children?" She felt her heart racing and the sight of Tony's rueful smile didn't help the situation. "Who?"

"Colin."

She thought she might have heard him wrong. "Shawn Brady's nephew is a DiMera?"

A strangled sounding chuckle escaped Tony's lips. "Can you just imagine the dear man's horror at such a prospect?"

"You're serious."

Tony got up out of the chair and walked over to stare through the window. "It's on the computer, go ahead and read it if you like," he told her but she didn't bother. Instead she was thinking about Shane's comment.

"What is it exactly Shane expects out of you?"

"Oh, he believes that Colin is a liability," said Tony, rubbing his forehead, "and it's not that I don't see his point…I just…oh, bloody hell," he snarled, pounding on the window with such force, Anna was shocked it didn't break until she realized it was probably made from some kind of reinforced safety glass.

"What do you mean, a liability," she asked carefully, though she had a sinking feeling that she already knew the answer. "What does he want you to do?"

"Just what everyone in Salem would like to do to me, especially my brother."

Anna inhaled sharply at the tone in his voice. She knew things were not going well between him and John but she'd never heard such contempt before. It wasn't like she expected there to be any love between them after everything that had happened with Kristen but up until now, Tony merely vented his disgust. She hadn't even noticed that things had deteriorated to this point. Suddenly, he sounded as though he was talking about Andre and that was not a good sign, but neither was this difference of opinion about Colin, or the fact that Colin belonged to Andre. The whole situation seemed to be careening out of their control.

Trying not to look as worried as she felt, she said, "So, what are you going to do?"

"Well, I'm not going to shoot him," he declared firmly but then added, "not yet anyway."

"I'm not sure whether I ought to be relieved about that or not," said Anna as more implications began to pop up in her imagination.

"Considering I wasn't willing to shoot Stefano, you didn't imagine that I'd start in on my other relatives, did you?" said Tony, now sounding thoroughly annoyed. "I'm well aware that Colin's not exactly a saint but he hasn't done anything to me that I know of..."

"No," Anna admitted, "not yet."

Tony turned to stare at her wearing an inscrutable expression. "Is that our criteria now?"

The sinking feeling she had was beginning to get worse. "You're the one who just told me that you understood Shane's reservations."

"Yes, well unfortunately he doesn't find mine equally compelling."

Anna didn't reply to this, just stood gazing back at him worried and confused.

"Apparently you don't either," he said, not particularly surprised but sounding weary.

"I don't know, it just seems like no matter what you and Shane have tried, you still haven't caught Stefano. Instead he's provided you with two children he can use as leverage to force you to do whatever he wants, you and your brother are at each other's throats and to make matters even more complicated...Andre's son appears, a Brady no less. Don't you see a pattern here?"

Staring at her across the space of the small room, Tony suddenly had the oddest sense of déjà vu, except it was more than that. Memories flooded through his mind, memories of the two of them trapped in Andre' dungeon, arguing about how they were going to find Stefano and figure out his game. Only they hadn't in the end. They'd gotten lucky. And they had friends who were persistent, and frankly just downright stubborn and wouldn't give up, like Eugene…Eugene who no longer lived in Salem thought Tony, glancing back at the window.

"Tony."

His head snapped back to Anna, waiting anxiously for a response and with a mysterious smile curling at the edge of his mouth, he strolled over and wound his arms around her slender form. "Yes darling, believe or not I do see a pattern, I have nightmares about it, remember?" he joked softly next to her ear.

"There isn't anything about this situation I find amusing."

'No, I suppose you're right," he sighed, pressing his face up to her hair, "especially for my cousin in there," he said nodding towards the window.

"Tony," she said, hearing the pity in his voice, "Good lord, you feel sorry for him."

Holding onto her arms, Tony leaned back far enough to look into her eyes. "What did you expect, considering he's now in the same position where I've spent most of my life?"

The play of emotions that shifted across Anna's features would have made Tony smile at almost any other time. He'd always adored trying to figure her out. It was a thoroughly amusing pastime not to mention a constant challenge, but at the moment he was too preoccupied with the problem at hand and he needed her to understand his dilemma. "Do you trust him?" she asked finally, meeting his gaze.

Tony considered for a minute how to answer this truthfully. "I think it'd be more accurate to say that I have an idea of the extent to which I can trust him."

"That sounds awfully clever," she chuckled, not entirely convinced, "but will it work?"

"Have you ever known me not to be a decent judge of character?"

She tilted her head playfully. "Well, except for going into business with Alex…"

"Yeah, you would bring that up," he laughed, dropping a light kiss on her lips and letting go of her to reach for the coffee.

Watching as he poured himself a steaming cup, she asked, "What about Shane?"

Tony carried his cup over to the computer where he sat down, and read through the contents of the email once more. "I think I might have come up with something."

"It better be brilliant if you expect to change his mind," said Anna, pouring her own coffee. "I don't think I've ever seen him that angry."

"He's frustrated, I know," Tony sighed. "And I do see where he's coming from, he's got a valid point, I just…can't do it. Killing Colin just because he might be dangerous isn't any more of an option that shooting the twins, who are potentially more deadly than their cousin if I'm to believe everything John says," he said with a short laugh. "What I do know is that all three of them have been used by everyone involved, especially Stefano."

"But that's not your fault," she reminded him.

Tony stared at the screen without replying immediately. A minute or two ticked by in silence and just as she thought to ask how he could hold himself accountable for Stefano's actions, he said, "No, but it doesn't change the fact that he's used me to hurt them."

"Used you. Tony…" She grabbed the arm of his chair and swung it around so they were facing one another. "Please tell me you're not feeling guilty because of what that bastard has done…"

"No, it's not guilt," he broke in quickly, laying his hand on hers. "Just…" he grit his teeth, "helplessness." Shaking his head, he didn't bothering trying to disguise his resentment now. "Do you know how incredibly sick I am of having to watch, as one by one, every member of this family pays for his sins, everyone except him."

At that moment, they both heard the door click shut and turned to find Shane had slipped into the room unnoticed, calmer than when he left but still determined. "You're right, none of you should have to pay for what Stefano has done over the years," he observed, picking up his own cup and pouring himself some coffee. "But Colin is not your responsibility." After adding sugar and digging a spoon out of a drawer, he sat down on the corner of a table stirring the liquid, and stared at it thoughtfully before he raised his eyes to face Tony. "You suggested earlier that I was allowing my past to influence me, so I assume that you know about my brother."

With a shrug, Tony said, "Only hearsay, but you're not going to tell me that if you could do it all over again, not knowing the outcome, that you would do anything differently."

The shrewd guise of assurance in Shane's eyes faded away, leaving only a faint air of disgust. "I was suspicious even at the beginning," he said quietly, looking down, seemingly embarrassed at the admission, "but I let my emotions get in the way."

"No," said Tony shaking his head. "You took a risk, one that didn't pay off for either of you, unfortunately, but that's what you do for a living, isn't it?"

Shane nodded. "Yes I do, and I can promise you that this is not a risk worth taking Tony."

"Perhaps, but I have learned a few things from Stefano over the years on how to survive one of his games," he replied, his dark eyes glowing with intensity. "The first rule is to use anything and everything at your disposal. Now, you may not like Colin as a person, I'm not sure I do either but he's a resource. My God, he's a doctor if nothing else who might be able to tell us what the hell was done to me but even more important, he might be able to provide us with enough information so that if, God forbid we should have to, we could slip our own person into Stefano's organization."

For an instant, Shane's resolve wavered and his gaze strayed over to Anna, who all of the sudden was unusually quiet. Her face betrayed little anxiety, which meant Tony had managed to persuade her that keeping Andre's son alive was worth the risk. Not a simple or easy task considering the circumstances. "Even if I agree to this," he said, turning back to Tony, "he's still going to need constant supervision, which is something we didn't count on."

"No, but I think I know someone who would be willing to help us."

More out of curiosity than anything else, Shane waved his hand for Tony to continue.

"Eugene."

Shane blinked at him in surprise. "Bradford?"

Tony nodded.

"And when was the last time you spoke to Eugene, might I ask?"

"I haven't, but…" looking over his shoulder at Anna, he waited.

Anna's eyebrow perked up slightly as she caught Tony's drift. "Well, we don't talk much more than a couple times a year, but yeah, I keep in touch with them, or Calliope at least."

"Whenever you need a new dress?" Tony teased.

"No," came Anna's retort a little too quickly, and then, "okay, well sometimes but that's not the point here, is it?"

He grinned, "No, I just want to know where he is so I can talk to him."

With a not so encouraging laugh, she said, "You think he's going to want to baby sit Colin?"

"Oh, if it means taking down Stefano, Eugene will most definitely be interested."

From where he was sitting, Shane's view of Colin was limited but he could still see his face, not cowed exactly but apprehensive and confused. Just how useful could he be, Shane wondered. Tony's reminder that Colin might possess crucial information about Stefano's organization was calculated Shane knew, but valid nonetheless. Especially since it was becoming more evident that Stefano had no intentions of providing Tony with the information they were seeking and the longer the game continued, the more desperate Tony's position would become, in Salem, and with his father.

Rubbing his eyes, he shook his head at Tony. "I have a bad feeling about this," he said, making one more effort to persuade him but Tony only gazed back with a dry smile.

"Welcome to my world."

Shane sighed. "I know I'm going to regret this," he said, shooting one more look in Colin's direction, "but go ahead and call Eugene."


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Time: New Year's Day 2003, later on

Place: Montreal

Tony paused, his hand resting on the doorknob leading into an enormous drawing room situated oddly enough, near the back of the house. Despite the fact he was early, Shane expected him. He'd rung Tony up in his room, asking for a brief meeting before the ceremony began but after their previous argument, Tony's desire to spend the next hour hashing out his reasoning once again was nonexistent. In all honesty, he found the situation every bit as appalling as Shane, but then Shane's only priority was nabbing Stefano.

He felt no obligation when it came to Tony's family, and quite frankly, Tony was fed up with trying to explain it to him. As Andre's son, Colin was fair game for Stefano who had finally convinced Tony he'd use any means to further his own ends. Colin would become simply another pawn to be discarded when the contest was over.

A rather ironic situation really. Shawn had risked his own life and his family's future in order to save his nephew, but in the end his actions had merely given Stefano the opportunity to wreck the life of another DiMera, not to mention another Brady. How many of them had already paid or been used, or worse, ensnared through his influence. As angry as Tony had been over Renee's death, at least she'd died her own person, not warped and twisted like her sister and of all the tragedy he'd witnessed over the years, it was Kristen's destruction that haunted him the most. It was so difficult to accept. The compassionate and selfless woman he'd known, the one devoted to helping others would never have degenerated into such a vile harpy. The idea was too cruel, knowing she'd become her father's daughter in every sense of the word. That was a future he'd go to any lengths to prevent for the next generation.

Perhaps such an attitude constituted stubbornness on his part, or even vanity but he couldn't shrug off his sense of responsibility even with Shane insisting every five minutes that it was the intelligent course of action. There was no one else ready to prevent Stefano from wiping out what was left of this family.

Seizing upon Eugene had been sheer desperation on Tony's part. Almost instinct. Of course whether Gene would be willing to help or not was uncertain, but his old friend did have one trait that most Salemites dismissed immediately, the idea that a DiMera could have redeeming qualities if given the opportunity and even an iota of trust. And he'd hear Tony out before reaching a decision.

Still frustrated, he yanked the door open, and glancing through the room quickly spotted Shane lounging near the picture window. He was already dressed for the ceremony in an immaculately tailored tuxedo. If he heard the door, he gave no indication, but sat gazing outside in the direction of the garden that had remained frozen all day, a virtual wonderland of icicles. In his hand, he cradled a glass. With deliberate effort, Tony shut the door without slamming it, and proceeded directly to the bar to pour himself a scotch and soda.

"Did you speak to him?" Shane inquired from across the room as Tony began adding ice to his drink.

"Yes, he'll be here before I leave."

There was a moment of silence and then, "So, a few days…I see."

The steady measuring quality of Shane's tone touched a nerve in Tony, driving his irritability up another notch. "If I'd realized you needed him here immediately, I would have sent the jet, but I thought that might be a bit obvious," he growled at the other man sarcastically though he soon regretted the outburst when Shane began to chuckle.

"Oh Tony, relax. I'm just amazed that you convinced him to get here at all on such short notice."

Swearing under his breath, Tony swallowed a sizable amount of his drink. Another blow up with Shane at this point would hardly be constructive and he rather doubted Anna's willingness to put up with a bridegroom and best man glaring at each other during their vows. "Sorry," he offered with a slight quick smile as he joined Shane at the window. He slid into a love seat that afforded a magnificent view of the winter scene beyond the glass. "Like I said this morning, Gene has plenty of motivation when it comes to catching Stefano."

"Ah yes. Stefano had your cousin murder his wife," Shane remarked, as though he were talking about a statistic on a newscast. Of course to Shane, who'd never met her, Trista was exactly that; simply another number that defined Stefano's wicked past.

If only her memory were that painless for Tony, whose last, brief glimpse of her had been the night of Renee's murder sometime before Andre had locked him up, not an auspicious evening for engagements or nearly anything else.

"So, you believe he'll be willing to help, and that's great but how?" Shane asked after a moment.

"You are kidding," said Tony, peering at him, his dark eyes round and rather solemn.

"No, I mean I appreciated Eugene, he was a great friend," Shane told him with a shrug, looking mystified at Tony's assumption. "He was easy going, and fun but you don't honestly expect him to keep track of Colin, do you? He was not the most methodical person I've ever known."

An indulgent smile lit up Tony's face. "Surely that's not all you remember."

"Well." Shane scratched behind his ear as though distracted or perhaps uncomfortable. "He was…different."

"And on occasion one step ahead of the rest of us."

Awareness dawned gradually across Shane's face as he kept both eyes concentrated on his drink. "You mean his…" pausing, he searched for the correct term. "Vibes." He looked up at Tony and behind the candidness of his gaze, Tony caught just the merest hint of a twinkle in his eye, and once again had to curtail his irritation.

"Come on Shane, even you'll admit he had an uncanny ability when it came to people," Tony reminded him. "Was he ever wrong in your experience?"

Shane didn't bother answering this question, instead his normally animated expression bled into one that was set and rather blank, an odd look that both scrutinized Tony's face and stalled for time, as though he were combing his memory for a reasonable exception.

"The man's more accurate than a polygraph test," said Tony, prodding him gently with a smile but Shane remained stubborn this time around.

"What if he seconds my opinion?"

For a moment, Tony's sensibility balked once again at what Shane was asking of him. The reaction amused and galled him all at the same time. Killing Colin had mattered less than nothing to him only twenty-four hours ago and now suddenly considering the idea was intolerable, though he had to admit they'd made progress since this morning when Shane wouldn't even concede the possibility of Colin being worth the trouble. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back onto the top of the couch, and immediately his resentment over being forced to make such a decision began eating at him. What if sacrificing Colin was only the beginning? Who would be next? Alexandra? Or the twins more likely. But this train of thought led in a direction too terrible to envision, and he shied away from such consequences, ones he would never accept.

With difficulty, he steered his thoughts back to the problem at hand, glancing over again to Shane's expectant face. Dragging Eugene into the equation had been his idea, he reminded himself, and Shane had given into it and compromised. And Eugene's instincts were truly more accurate than anyone else's. "Alright," he told Shane, reluctance still tugging at every nerve as he agreed, "if that is his assessment, then I'll go along and do it your way."

Shane gave a nod. "Excellent." Tony noticed him visibly relax. "So what exactly did Colin have to say when you offered him the deal?"

"The only thing he left to him at this point," Tony said, disgust lacing his short biting laughter. "He accepted."

"No questions?"

"He was rather curious as to how we're going to trick Stefano."

Shane raised both eyebrows. "Yeah," he murmured, "me too."

Glaring at the window, Tony chose to ignore this comment. Another argument he had no desire to get into at the moment. "So, is there anything else, because I'd rather…"

"We need to discuss John."

"Oh, for the love of heaven," Tony snapped at him. "Why?"

"Has he told anyone else that you two are brothers?"

"I don't know," Tony shrugged irritably, scowling down at his drink. "Probably not. I'm sure he'd like to forget all about it."

"Just as much as you would, yes," Shane chuckled much to Tony's annoyance, "but Stefano isn't about to let that happen."

Tony took a deep breath. "So?"

"Well, I doubt John will be in any big hurry to spread the news on his own and the longer he drags his feet, the more of an opportunity he's providing Stefano…"

"…to dictate exactly what information comes out," Tony finished when Shane paused.

"Precisely."

A chuckle escaped Tony's lips followed by a brisk shake of his head as he turned towards Shane. "And naturally, you've decided the way around such a disaster would be for me to do the honors, am I correct?" he asked, a sparkle of mischief flickering in his eyes as he probed Shane's face. Shane simply smiled back at him but couldn't quite pull off the look of boyish innocence he'd used so often in the past and Tony grinned, finally beginning to enjoy himself. "So I'm to be the one to herald the glad tidings."

Shane laughed. "I thought you'd find the idea amusing."

"Well that rather depends on the setting you had in mind."

"Colin's wake?"

After a moment of what Shane could only assume was shock on Tony's part, a look of admiring incredulity settled on his face. "My, just the kind of stunt I'd expect out of Stefano," he said, impressed in spite of himself. "One he'll appreciate too."

"I hope so," said Shane. "You put on a good enough performance, and he might even let the subject die a peaceful death."

"That's a bit much to expect but it might keep Shawn occupied and worried about John..." His voice trailed off suddenly.

"What?"

Tony didn't look up right away. Instead he seemed lost in thought, his fingers turning his glass that lay resting on the arm of the couch. "I wonder," he said after a moment of silence, "if Colin is the only secret Shawn has been keeping."

"Meaning what exactly?"

"I don't know for sure, it's just his behavior lately I guess. Always taking Colin's side whenever there was an argument over that of his own sons, which even given what we know now about Colin doesn't make sense."

Shane had to admit Tony made a good point. He remembered feeling the same way during his visit and on several other occasions as well, but Tony's next bit of conjecture still took him by surprise.

"What do you think are the chances that Colin has been passing information about Stefano to Shawn?"

"That's a joke, right?"

Though amused by Shane's reaction, Tony held his gaze steadily, leaning back to wait for an answer.

An answer Shane didn't have right away. It was an idea he would have liked to dismiss out of hand, but then he thought back to their conversation earlier that morning; Shawn did know that Colin worked for Tony, and probably also suspected Colin had ties to Stefano, but it didn't seem to matter and whenever Roman or Bo would try to investigate, Shawn immediately put a stop to their activities. "An interesting theory," he said finally, "except Colin meant to go through with killing Bo last night."

"Oh, I'm not saying he didn't get in over his head, but it might explain why he didn't come to me after Welsh blackmailed him. Unfortunately," Tony added now wearing a thin smile, "it could also explain why Stefano wants him."

Shane eyed him uneasily. "You mean, _instead_ of his paternity."

"Yes. And if that is the case, then was the information Colin supplied to Shawn accurate, or was Stefano feeding him lies?"

It took Shane barely an instant to realize exactly what Tony had in mind. "Please tell me this is just a hunch on your part, because otherwise we could quite a problem on our hands if Shawn thinks that you knew about John all along."

"Yes, well the only person who's been more hostile towards me than John or Bo, whose reasons we're already aware of, is Mr. Brady," Tony informed him, the tension in his face clearly evident now.

Shane shook his head. "No Tony, he's just worried about his family, like John."

"Come on Shane. He's managed to do what no other person in my experience has ever been able to pull off, fooling Stefano for all these years. Hardly the picture of himself that he projects to the rest of Salem."

"Or to his family," Shane thought to himself, trying to reconcile this image of his father-in-law with the one he'd grown accustomed to; the one of a short tempered but for the most part, affable gentleman who'd survived so much disappointment, so much loss. Had he truly been the one who stared this war? And was Tony right, was he using Colin, perhaps trying to find a way to put an end to all of it? And if so, just exactly what kind of information had Colin provided his uncle? "If Colin knows that Stefano is alive..."

"Shawn might also be aware of it, yes."

"He'd never keep such secret to himself," Shane argued. "Even if he was worried about Roman or Bo, he'd tell John or…or come to the agency."

"The agency?" Tony laughed, though he kept his sarcasm under tight reign this time. "Sounds to me as though Shawn has been far more clever than anyone gave him credit for, so why would he show his hand? He's watched the ISA over the years, watched as Stefano has made fools of them again and again. And if Colin really did provide him with information, I'd imagine it included just how many agents Stefano has bought."

"My God," Shane sighed, glancing down at his glass that was already empty. "Is this the reason you were so adamant this morning about keeping him alive?"

"Not entirely, no. And I'd rather not get into all of that again now," Tony said with a quick glance at his watch. "That doorbell should be ringing at any moment and I have something to do before the ceremony, so I think the rest of this conversation can wait until tomorrow, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," Shane agreed quickly, not all that eager to continue digging through the ever deepening swamp they'd mired themselves into. "By the way, what is his name, this judge you bribed to give up his New Year's holiday?"

"Julien Lambert, and before you ask, he's an old friend of Martin's."

"Does Martin know about all of this yet?"

"Oh hell, Martin knew what I was going to do long before I did," Tony laughed, reaching out his hand to take Shane's glass.

* * *

Anna tossed her third pair of earrings back onto the dressing table and swore to herself. Nothing she'd brought with her worked with this blasted dress. Why hadn't she taken the time to go shopping before she left Paris, she thought irritably and then jumped when a knock rattled the door.

"It's open."

Before she realized who it was, Tony was standing behind her, a handsome figure, dashing and refined in his tuxedo and gazing thoughtfully at her in the mirror.

"You can't be up here," she began, but a wily, knowing grin appeared on his face and made her think better of insisting on tradition. It was pretty silly actually she had to admit after everything they'd been through together.

"Did Calliope design that for you?" he asked. In the mirror, his dark eyes gleamed as they admired her dress, an elegant, if somewhat wispy sheath of white silk and lace that naturally accentuated every lovely contour she possessed.

She nodded. "Yes, but of course I don't have a single pair of earrings that match…"

"Of course," he chuckled smoothly, taking her hand and pulling her up out of the chair and into his arms. "Not that you don't look fabulous in them, but no earrings work just as well," he murmured, nibbling gently on her left ear lobe, his tongue and warm breath sending tremors through her body which at least improved her disposition.

"Is this the reason you decided to barge in early?"

"No," he whispered, "but we could always…"

"Come back later," she told him firmly.

He eyed her, wearing that the grin again. "You sure?"

She smacked his arm. "You devil, you. What'd you come up here for anyway?"

"I thought perhaps you'd like me to carry you down to the wedding the same way I carried you upstairs last night."

Shaking her head, she twisted slightly in his arms, and stepped back but he gently took hold of her hand and kissed it.

"I came up here because there's something I have to say before we do this again." The tenor of his voice was suddenly quite serious.

She tried to swallow but couldn't, not even realizing that she held her breath as she waited. How still his face looked, composed she thought and let out a sigh which brought his eyes level with her own. "I just…" he closed his eyes. "Damn, this is supposed to be simple."

Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him. "Since when was anything we ever did easy or simple?"

"Sorry, poor choice of words," he said and took a deep breath. The look in his eyes was rueful and even a bit nervous.

"In a few minutes we're going to be making…promises to each other, promises I've done a pretty lousy job of keeping in the past, and I think we both know the future…" again he stopped but then, with his eyes shinning brightly, "I don't know for certain what Stefano has up his sleeve but whatever it may be I won't allow it to come between us again." There was such an earnest stubbornness behind his expression now, and concern for her that he so rarely discussed openly. "Beginning right now, this is our future," he told her, brushing one solitary finger over the curve of her cheek. "And under no circumstances will I _ever_ walk away from you, not for Stefano or anyone else."

She could feel her eyes burning but refused to look away, not as she recalled all the terrible years she'd spent believing him dead and lost. In spite of their situation, she reveled in the delight just his presence brought. It made her feel so alive and desirable, and respected, the latter being something few other people in her life had ever offered, and it was a gift she cherished.

"I know your fondness for diamonds," he said with a soft laugh, "but for now at least that probably wouldn't be a bright idea, so…" Opening his hand, he held out a locket. Delicate in the shape of an oval, its detail was breathtaking, and the color of the enamel still incredibly vivid considering its age which looked to be around the turn of the previous century, perhaps art nouveau. There was an image of a fairy queen on top like something out of a Midsummer's Night Dream. And on the inside, fitted neatly, was a picture of the two of them taken on their honeymoon twenty years before in Paris.

"Is that one of the shots Martin took?"

"Probably." Tony's voice was still tense and filled with emotion but he managed a wry smile as he slipped the chain around her neck and fastened the clasp securely. "I'm sure he'll remember."

"It's… exquisite," she said, laughing with delight and reaching up, she kissed him on the cheek. "And absolutely perfect."

"It was Mother's. I found it when we came back from the island after she died," he said quietly. "In an envelope with a letter."

"Addressed to you?"

He shook his head. "No, a letter my father wrote to her. My…real father."

She could feel the tears swimming again. "Daphne will probably be turning over in her grave at the thought of you giving it to me," she said, dabbing at her eyes and biting her lip in that adorably childish way he'd always found so appealing.

"Maybe," he said, but then his amusement got the better of him. "Though I wouldn't be too worried about it, after all, her other daughter-in-law was possessed by the devil. Even you can't beat that."

"No, not that it tarnished Marlena's reputation any."

Tony drew her close once more. "Forget about Marlena," he said, wrapping her in his arms. He hugged her body tightly against his own and kissed her, the trace of his sensuous lips teasing and luring her deeper until all that mattered or existed was the swirl of his tongue in her mouth and his hands, those marvelous hands that set every inch of her on fire. Finally, and more than a bit reluctantly, he pulled away. She didn't want it to end and her mouth followed his, reaching to find him, but stopped when his finger brushed softly across her lips. "_You_ are the woman I love, and the only one I care about," he whispered, with dark fervent eyes that seemed to caress not only her face but her heart and soul as well. "No one else even compares." Tenderly, he pressed his lips to her forehead and then looked back down, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Are you ready, Contessa?"


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Time: New Year's Day, 2003, later that night

Place: Montreal

"You know you're making it quite difficult for me to go back, don't you?" Nestled up beside him, Anna's head lay on his chest so that only tresses of wavy golden hair were visible, fanned out as if on display and its subtle variety of color shone where the light from the candles played upon it until he spoke, and then it rippled and slipped away as she turned over to face him.

"This from the man who used to preach to me about responsibility."

"Preach?" Tony's voice conveyed more than a degree of insult.

"Alright, so…" she shrugged. "Lecture."

He shook his head at her. "Not that it helped any, you're still ridiculously impulsive, and stubborn…" Stopping, he eyed her intently for a moment and his finger strayed to her lips. "You, my darling, exist in a world all your own."

A secretive smile curved along her lips. "You're only saying that because you didn't arrange this little rendezvous yourself." Sitting up beside him, she wrapped a sheet around her body. "You left that for me to do, didn't you," she accused jokingly, her eyes laughing at him. "Lucky for you at least one of us remembers what having fun and a good time is all about."

"Fun," he murmured.

She thought she detected just the slighted touch of bitterness as she watched him down the rest of his champagne. "Yes," she smiled, tilting her head to one side, "I realize things have been rather difficult, but Tony, you've gotten so serious lately. All you and Shane ever do anymore is argue about Stefano, and John."

"There's a reason for that," he told her, more sarcastically then he meant to. "Stefano is breathing down my neck and John..." But he bit off the rest of his comment before allowing his resentment free reign. It would spoil what little time they had together and he'd not permit that and besides, his father and brother were hardly his only source of aggravation. "The fact of the matter is, that town I'm stuck living in has changed," he told her. "It's beginning to take on aspects of its namesake, which is a fate I could certainly do without." Reaching for the bottle of champagne resting in its bucket on the nightstand, he filled the glass standing beside it which he offered to her and then poured himself another, brimming to the top. "So…here's to the upstanding citizens of Salem and their fair city," he raised his glass, wearing a cynical smile, "where just the merest hint that you might be having an enjoyable time in any guise will brand you as a troublemaker, or God forbid, a DiMera." For a moment it was silent and then he chuckled in disgust. "You see my dear, they've all…succumbed."

She frowned, doing her best to at least look serious. "Yeah? To what?"

"Let's just say that in some ways, Father has already won. Everyone at each other's throats is what he's always seemed to be maneuvering towards and he's got it. That place is," he took in a deep shaky breath and squinted. "vicious. Even after Andre I don't recall there being quite this degree of animosity."

"Sure you want to go back?"

She was rewarded with a mischievous twinkle that lit up his eyes and he laughed in spite of himself. "See? You're a terrible influence."

The corner of her mouth twitched briefly and her eyes sparkled but she remained where she was, sitting just out of arm's reach, hugging her knees, and sipping champagne but after a moment, she turned the subject back to one he'd just as soon forget permanently. "What did Shane mean earlier, when he suggested than the answer could be in the will?"

"Ah," Tony stalled, "You were so busy charming Julian, I was pretty certain that you missed that."

She laughed. "Julian, poor man. What a dreadful bore, where on earth did Martin ever dig him up?"

"School, I presume. They probably met in university," he said, glancing towards the bay window where he could see the moonlight glistening on the snow and noticed how it made the frozen branches of the trees shine with an eerie light.

"Well?" she questioned when he didn't continue.

Tony glanced back at her in surprise. "You don't really want to get into this tonight, do you?"

"Yes I do. I want to know what you said to Shane earlier to make him suddenly change his mind about Colin."

"He hasn't changed his mind…"

"He had not the slightest use for him this morning and don't treat me like a child," she warned him, her temper flaring instantly at his desire to change the subject. "I'm not Marlena and I don't need you to sugarcoat the facts as though I were some emotionally inept woman."

"If you think Marlena is helpless," said Tony, smirking in a way that only set her teeth grinding, "I'm afraid…"

"Fine," she snapped. Being subjected to a long list of Marlena's virtues on her wedding night sounded like torture. "I just want you to tell me what's going on. You know me, I…" stopping, she pursed her lips together. "I hate guessing."

Tony laughed and reached to take the glass out of her hand and pull her back over next to him. "No, you hate sharing."

"Yeah, that too."

Though the look on her face softened, the stubborn gleam in her eye remained as though daring him to continue the argument. "God, I love it when you get jealous," he said, and kissed her with a fierce playfulness that left her panting for air when he pulled away to whisper in her ear, "stop worrying about her, would you? I'm all yours," and buried his smile in her hair. "That's what tonight was all about, remember…Contessa?"

"Yes, well that's good." It sounded nonchalant, though she wrapped her body around him with a possessive air that Tony found touching. "I still expect to hear what you and Shane were talking about," she informed him as soon as she'd situated herself comfortably.

"Of course you do," said Tony, ginning as he ran his fingers through waves of silken hair. "So, what would you say if I told you that Colin has been taking orders from your ex-father-in-law?"

That took her a moment. "Shawn?"

"Yes, unless there's another I missed somewhere along the line."

"How could he be…working for Shawn? I thought the whole reason that Bo hated him so much was because he'd figured out Colin has been working for you and Stefano."

"Oh yes, Bo is beyond frustrated." She could tell Tony was thoroughly amused. "No matter how suspicious Colin's activities became over the past few months, Shawn refused to let either Bo or Roman do much more than chase after him like a couple of overgrown watchdogs and according to Shane, he tried to put a stop to that as well."

"What?" She dragged herself up on her elbows and stared at him.

"Rather peculiar behavior for Shawn wouldn't you say, considering how he feels about Stefano."

Her head nodded slowly in agreement. "Yes, Shawn certainly despises him, almost as much as you do, though I suppose he'd hardly be comfortable with anyone in the family learning the truth about who Colin's parents actually are."

"No, that would definitely take some fancy explaining," he replied with a chuckle, remembering the day of Stefano's memorial service and the reaction Shawn had displayed after John held up the plastic model of a baby flung from the boat Shawn had received only moments before. Without thinking, he'd wheeled about to stare at Colin. "That was an incredible risk he took all those years ago, but I wonder," he said, his finger absently tapping his lips, "if that's the extent of what happened back in Ireland."

"I thought you didn't believe what you read in the journal."

"I don't," he said, leaning back into the pillows. "I just suspect it's not that simple, because nothing ever _is_ where Stefano is concerned." Closing his eyes, he lay quietly, thinking. "As uncomfortable as I am with the idea, Father's games up to this point have always contained one underlying conceit, if you will, at least in his own mind and that's his belief that he was protecting his family."

Ire flickered in Anna's eyes. "And just how the hell does destroying you and John help protect his family?"

"If I had an answer to that we wouldn't be here," he told her, a hint of impatience in his voice now.

"Okay, okay." Holding up a hand, she plastered a smile on her face. "So you and Shane discussed this, and he thinks there could be a clue or an answer in the will?

Tony shrugged as though disgusted again. "You know Stefano, there is nothing he adores as much as creating a puzzle, so yes, that would most likely be the key but so far the hints we've actually deciphered only point in a general direction. None of them appear specific enough to determine what will happen in advance, only after the fact.

"There's no pattern to any of them?"

"Probably," he grumbled. "Determining what it is however is another story."

"Well, obviously we stumbled upon the reason for the boat now," she said, prodding him to continue, "so what else?"

A sliver of irritation flickered a moment in his eyes and then vanished beneath thick lashes. "I guess it would be pointless right now to suggest that we could continue this discussion in the morning, and get back," he said, running a finger lightly across her cheek, "to more important things."

"This is important," she persisted. In the low light of the room, the changeable hue of her eyes had deepened to violet but now they flared with a brilliance he sensed was fear and it made him realize how much closer to the edge she was than she let on. "Tony, in a couple of days, we're both going back to cities on opposite sides of the Atlantic. That's _not_ where I want to be."

"All the more reason we shouldn't be sitting here arguing and wasting the time we've got left," he said, making an effort to reason with her.

"I'm _not_ trying to waste any of it," she shot back, sitting up once more. Her gaze dropped. "I just need to do this…I'm…scared," she whispered, lifting her eyes full of unshed tears, "don't you understand?"

"Oh Anna." In a matter of seconds, he'd scrambled over from where he lay and knelt in front of her. The trail of a single tear caught and mirrored the candlelight where it grazed her cheek and without thinking he reached to brush it away. "I know how unfair all of this is…"

"No." He could hear a world of pent up frustration straining to escape in that one word but she squeezed her eyes shut and her fingers rubbed impatiently, trying to wipe away the wet streaks staining her face. "I need to feel useful," she told him, sounding plaintive and opening her eyes, she looked up at him in a way that tore at his heart. "I need to be able to do something that keeps us together. I won't loose you." Though determined, she had to fight to get the last few words out. "Not again."

Sitting on his heels, he forced himself to choke back the promises that sprang to mind. With Stefano involved, they were empty words; absurd and meaningless sentiments that Tony would be unable to fulfill and no one knew that better, or detested the situation as much as he did. He could protect her from Stefano, but reality and its consequences were an entirely different matter. "What happened to having a little faith?" he asked finally, unwilling to simply give into his despair.

"Oh God, I'm trying Tony." Her eyes, round with hurt accused and pleaded with him all at the same time, "truly I am, but for heaven's sake, I've got to have something to do besides sitting back and waiting for things to happen, especially when I'm so far away. I mean, you're in the middle of it all while I'm stuck with nothing to do everyday but imagine the worst." The barest hint of hysteria seeped into her voice. "Don't you understand, if I can't do something to help I'll go crazy." Though her tears had stopped, misery remained etched into the lines around her eyes and shame. "I know I'm not being very brave…"

Before she could get any further a finger lifted her chin and his mouth was on hers, familiar and reassuring, drowning her panic in a sea of other emotions that had nothing to do with logic and leaving her consciousness no room to indulge her nagging insecurities. The relief of it created an intensity that drove both of them to the edge, past caring about anything except the taste of each other and when they pulled away, simply breathing. His hand, which had wound it way through her hair and caressed her neck, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I don't want to hear you ever say that about yourself," he whispered, still trying to catch his breath. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be lost…"


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Time: Two Days Later

Place: Montreal

Opening his eyes, Colin found Tony sitting across from him, drinking coffee, looking indecently serene and relaxed.

"Isn't it a bit early for visiting hours to begin?" Colin grumbled. He didn't really feel up to a game of cat and mouse, especially since he knew which category he fell into.

"If it were morning I suppose, but it's not," Tony informed him, and then with a quick glance around the room, "I'm afraid that the first thing you loose in a place like this is your sense of time."

Colin squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to get them to focus better. "And just how much longer are you going to keep me locked up?"

There was a pause, deliberate Colin was sure and meant to produce a sweat. "Until I'm able to locate somewhere you'll be safe."

"You mean, like this?" Colin gestured impatiently as he sat up and leaned against the wall.

"Perhaps you'd fancy a coffin instead," Tony said lightly.

Colin swallowed past the lump in his throat and quickly made an effort to laugh off his unease. "I thought we had a deal."

Tony shrugged. "I'm not the one trying to kill you," he reminded the younger man, setting his cup on the table next to him and picking up a carafe. "Would you like some?"

"Yeah sure." Colin nodded as he crawled off the bed and slipped into the tiny bathroom. By the time he reappeared, a mug full of steaming coffee awaited him, the rather expensive variety Tony preferred he noted as soon as he tasted it. "So, you're positive your old m…that Stefano wants me dead."

Tony, who was stirring his own cup, glanced up, and the lack of concern on his face bordered on amusement. "For someone who apparently doubts I'm telling the truth, you're awfully nervous."

Colin cracked a smile but inwardly he fumed at being stuck in such an impossible situation.

"I would appreciate an explanation as to why he's so determined," Tony said, leaning back in his chair and staring up at him with curiosity. "Since, according to you, it has nothing to do with Alexandra." But Colin only stared back at him over the rim of the cup, his face a blank mask except for his eyes which momentarily hardened. "Would it have anything to do with your uncle perhaps?" Tony finally asked, and was immediately aware that Colin didn't look all that surprised at such an inquiry.

"Uncle Shawn? What would make you say that?"

Eyeing Colin carefully, Tony offered, "Conjecture."

"If you're talking what happened the day Stefano's will was read," Colin replied, forcing himself remain calm, "I'll repeat what I told you back then, Uncle Shawn refused to enlighten me or anyone else, although I'm hardly the one he'd choose to confide in if it were necessary."

"Which would be the reason why you didn't go to him after Welsh blackmailed you."

Colin's eyes widened ever so slightly but he didn't comment, so after a moment Tony continued. "The contents of the file Larry stole from Grant must be…" he waved the spoon in his hand, "extremely hazardous to someone or you wouldn't have gotten entangled or ended up on the wrong side of a snake like Welsh." He raised both eyebrows and waited but still nothing. "If it simply detailed the events of your own past, I wish you'd enlighten me as to why you'd have a problem with the ISA taking a look. You know as well as I do they'd have given you a free ticket, or nearly anything else get their hands on my father."

Backing up a few steps, Colin sank down onto the bed. "And just how long do you think I'd have lasted in their custody?"

The gleam in Tony's dark eyes seared into his with an intensity Colin found unnerving. "Is that the only reason?"

"Good God, isn't that enough?"

An unnaturally silent pause stretched to nearly a minute as Tony stayed completely still, and then, "So, you would have shot Bo." He stated it quietly, not making it a question but sounding suspicious nonetheless.

"Come on Tony," said Colin, a bit defensively, "you couldn't give a damn about my cousin."

And despite Tony's best intentions, a chuckle slipped out. "Apparently, neither do you."

Colin shook his head. "It wasn't that..it wasn't personal or anything…"

Again Tony remained still as more seconds ticked by in silence until it became evident that Colin didn't mean to explain himself. "Who is it that you're protecting Colin? Yourself, or Shawn Brady?"

For the merest instant, a flicker of desperation shone in Colin's eyes but he quickly turned away. "You're barking up the wrong tree, Tony."

"Considering what I've learned about your personality over the last several months, or assumed I had," he added with a self-deprecating grin, "I'd tend to agree but it doesn't quite correspond with the rest of the picture."

"What are you talking about?" Colin asked sharply only to find himself confronted with a pair of shrewd eyes he'd learned took nothing for granted.

"Oh Colin, you haven't exactly been discreet, so Shawn couldn't have missed the fact that you've been working for me."

"So?"

"And Stefano."

Colin shrugged but looked uncomfortable. "Perhaps, I don't know. We never discussed it."

"Whatever else your uncle is, he's no fool," Tony snapped, suddenly impatient with Colin's hedging.

"Well, if you already know, what the hell are you badgering me for?

"Because, Shawn's behavior lately has been, well…peculiar. What would fire him up to the point of interfering in Bo and Roman's investigation?"

Looking alarmed, Colin searched Tony's face. "There is no way…"

"What is it that Shawn's afraid of?"

"I don't know." Colin insisted.

The cup blew out of Tony's hand with such speed, Colin jerked back in surprise as it shattered into the corner to his right. Utter silence followed and he had to work up the nerve to drag his eyes forward, expecting to find Tony's riveting stare trained on him but instead what he encountered was Tony's back, which sent his heart into a panic. He'd experienced his share of Stefano's uncontrollable tantrums, and Tony's he'd supposed but he was beginning to realize that up to this point, Tony had never even come close to loosing control in his presence.

"There could be only one reason," said Tony, his voice low and carrying a distinct edge as he turned around, "for Shawn to keep his sons in check and you don't really need me to spell it out, do you?"

"Tony, I swear…"

But the table practically bounced with the force Tony used to drive his fist into it. "You continued to work for Stefano and then for me because that is what Shawn expected you to do."

"No…"

"Damn it," Tony barked at him. "Stop lying."

"I'm not lying to you." Colin knew that Tony couldn't miss the fact that his breathing had become ragged. His throat was so dry, he could barely swallow. "Look you…you don't understand..."

"That's right, I don't," said Tony, his eyes now black with fury, "and I'm exceedingly tired of the run around I'm getting from everyone involved. So, what the bloody hell is going on?"

"I…" he had to swallow just to get the words out. "Can't tell you."

For a second, Tony looked incensed and Colin feared he'd loose his temper completely, but instead his face was suddenly only a few feet away as he leaned his hands down on the mattress. "I'm risking my neck keeping you alive Murphy over the advice of people I've practically alienated, people who consider you a waste of time and space, so if you expect me to continue providing assistance, I suggest you cough up the truth or the last thing you'll need to worry about is protecting the Brady family honor."

"I can't tell you because I don't know what happened," Colin yelled at him in frustration though he instantly backed down when Tony's eyes narrowed warningly. "Look, all Uncle Shawn would ever tell me is that if the truth surfaced, it could ruin us all."

"Us?" said Tony, straightening up.

"Both of our families."

A burst of laughter erupted at this remark and reverberated in the enclosed space. "Of course Shawn Brady agonizes over the fact that he might cause the destruction of my family."

"The DiMeras are my family too, Tony." His admission, though stated in a calm, even steady voice altered the tension in the room, sending a succession of emotions cascading over Tony's face, and Colin was shocked at his obvious distress. "This can't possibly be news to you."

"That Andre is…was your father?" The rage had dissipated and his voice had a hollow quality that augmented the droop in his shoulders as he turned away. "No…and yes." There was a pause and then, "quite the secret you two have been harboring all these years."

It wasn't the response Colin saw coming. "But you knew before I arrived here, your father must have told you about it months, or…or even years ago."

Tony shook his head a couple times but Colin could tell he wasn't paying complete attention. "Is that what was in the file that you had no desire to share with the ISA?"

"Along with a few other things," Colin admitted in a testy manner, "yes."

Whatever the 'other' things were, they didn't interest Tony in the least. "How'd you find out?" He rounded on Colin with a piercing gaze. "My father?"

"No. Nor Uncle Shawn," Colin added when Tony snorted in disgust. "It was an accident, a long, thoroughly boring story I doubt you find interesting…and don't give me that look because you weren't planning on telling me either," he said accusingly, "were you?"

"If it had been left up to me," said Tony, his eyes taking on an obstinate gleam, "you would have never learned the truth."

Now it was Colin whose temper flared. "Oh, I see. Embarrassed to have any Brady blood marring the family line, eh?"

Tony stared at him. "Do you know _what_ your father was?"

"I know he wasn't any more of a sick bastard than yours." Colin retorted angrily but instead of a response in kind, Tony had to cover a grin that stole over his face and a good minute passed before he trusted himself enough to answer.

"Something we agree upon at last…cousin." The last word slid out wrapped in a charmingly snide air of endearment.

Colin sat back and gazed up at Tony, first with skepticism that was second nature to him at this point, and then slowly, and not without a certain amount of resistance, a dawning intuition that perhaps he'd misjudged the situation, along with the man standing in front of him. "I…" he shook his head. "Why the hell would you give a damn what happens to me?"

Tony quickly glanced away. "I told you before; the information…"

"No," Colin cut him off, "no matter how useful I am, I know how you loathed my father."

"Yes, no doubt Shawn was eager enough to share that bit of warped history with you wasn't he? Expecting you'd believe that I'm only interested in revenge."

"Why wouldn't you be?" Colin asked bluntly. He was tired of this ridiculous game and wanted a few straight answers; though he didn't expect his cousin to provide him any but to his amazement Tony regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before replying.

"Because, unlike your father…and mine, I refuse to rip this family apart merely to settle an old vendetta, particularly one that you had no part in creating." He shot a keen glance toward the window. "The fact you're Andre's is…well, an accident of birth shall we say," his tone becoming weary; "A position I'm most intimately familiar with."

Colin continued to stare at Tony, who busied himself with finding a new cup and pouring more coffee. The situation was acquiring the taste of something incredibly surreal all of the sudden; as though nothing he'd experienced over the past few months had actually happened, or meant what he thought it did at the time.

The DiMeras are chameleons, never what they seem.

How often had that adage been reiterated for his benefit as though the mere act of saying it again and again would save him from some dreadful fate. After a lifetime of being saddled to his family's expectations, including their respectable code of honor that insisted he betray those who were part of his family too, here was one, practically the devil himself who'd just shown Colin more compassion, not to mention more honesty than any of the Bradys, even his uncle and all Tony asked in return was the solution to a riddle. Not exactly the same as selling his soul Colin figured and at that moment, he was startled by the realization he'd willingly give Tony the answer if he knew what it was because he'd never been shown this much respect by anyone else in Salem. For the first time in years, he felt something besides the self loathing to which he'd grown so accustomed.

"You'd accept help from me in spite of my…ancestry." Lifting his head, he discovered Tony leaning up against the opposite wall near the window, a beguiling demeanor about him that Colin swore almost seemed genuine.

"I suppose that depends on where your loyalties lie."

"Well I'm hardly in any position to go back and rat you out to the Bradys," he laughed nervously, "if that's what you're worried about."

Tony folded his arms and turned a passing glance at the window. "As I said the other day, you're free to walk out that door and go where you like, however, I'd no longer be responsible for the consequences."

Actually, Colin hadn't believed him the first time Tony offered, but now he wondered. "You'd let me just leave and go home?"

Shaking his head, Tony smiled sadly. "Did you ever really have a home Colin? Even in Ireland?"

At first Colin wasn't sure whether his anger was directed at Tony's presumption or the fact that he'd nailed the situation so accurately. "I know how you feel about the Bradys, but that's no reason to sneer," he bit back, and discovered that saying it aloud hurt worse than he thought it would. Despite his uncle's sincerity, the rest of the family had made it clear how they felt about him, especially Bo and Roman. To them, he was the black sheep, or worse, a traitor.

"Ah, the Brady clan," Tony mused, "No, I don't think you do know how I feel but that's beside the point. The fact of the matter is cousin, that you've managed to get yourself into hot water with quite a number of people and even Shawn couldn't help you now." He eyed Colin with a sympathetic, even rueful look. "You've been playing a very dangerous game."

Furiously, Colin bristled at this accusation. "More dangerous than whatever it is you're doing, protecting me from Stefano? What the hell are you playing at…cousin?"

The insolence in his tone amused Tony but not ready to share his own information yet, his eyes narrowed just noticeably. "My reasons needn't concern you."

"Oh, they'd better, if you expect my help."

Letting his head drop back against the wall, Tony smiled, almost to himself. "Well, well," he said, unable to erase the sarcasm completely from his tone, "there really is a backbone underneath all that bluster."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Alright," Tony shrugged. "Yes, it's a risk."

"Why? And don't tell me it's just about Uncle Shawn or the Bradys."

"I think I'm beginning to discover that I haven't the foggiest idea what this is all about."

"Tony…" Colin was struggling now to keep a tight reign on his emotions.

"Yes, I know. You don't believe me."

"Well, you've done a damn convincing job over the last several months..."

"Rather too good perhaps."

"But why?"

"Why did you agree to spy on me for Shawn?" Tony countered, raising an eyebrow.

"I told you before," said Colin with a hint of steel in his voice, "He never asked me to do any such thing."

But almost immediately Colin recognized the mistake he'd made as his cousin's polite façade melted into a withering glare with intensity enough to pin him up. Colin gulped. He'd dreaded even the possibility of this revelation and just prayed it wouldn't set off another outburst. "It was…my idea," he explained. "I went to him, not the other way around."

"Yours?" Tony stared at him, floored, not sure if he was more bowled over by what Colin had just told him, or Colin's willingness to admit such behavior in the present company.

"Yes, I came across something I'm pretty certain I wasn't meant to see, and…" Jumping up, he wandered over to the table where he picked up the carafe and filled his cup half way.

"Go on." There was an air of expectancy in Tony's voice, and though perhaps he didn't mean for it to show, anxiety that edged along beneath it.

"I found a set of blue prints in your father's briefcase," Colin began reluctantly. For a moment, he fooled around with his coffee, adding sugar which was something he didn't normally use. "Every single one matches…certain homes, and…and various other places around Salem."

"Homes belonging to…?"

"Uh, well…there was the pub, and…" he glanced up quickly, "the mansion."

Tony's eyes darted toward the window, but after just a second he gestured for Colin to continue.

"Roman's place, and the Horton's and…"

"Do you mean Mickey and Maggie's house?"

"Well yes, theirs and Mrs. Horton."

Now the shock carved into Tony's face was undeniable. "Alice?"

Colin gave him a careful nod.

"You're certain?"

Wetting his lips, Colin swallowed convulsively under Tony's gaze that was swiftly twisting into something ugly. "It was definitely the one that belongs to Mrs. Horton. I…I checked."

"What about Bo and Hope?" Tony demanded.

"No, I didn't see theirs but Hope's parents, or her father's place at least was in the pile along with the rest."

Doug…and Julie, Tony thought, his mind working furiously trying to get the pieces to connect which they did once he dug back far enough, into a past filled with too many raw memories; his mother's confession, Renee's marriage and all the subsequent misery that followed, including that horrendous week when he and the rest of Salem discovered the depth of Stefano's betrayal, revelations that had come to light partly due to Doug and Julie's efforts, he knew, and Mickey's, and that was something Stefano would certainly never allow himself to forget.

But why not include Bo? Even if he was Victor's son biologically, he still thought of himself as a Brady along with everyone else and although Stefano never discussed it or brought up Megan's name, Tony knew he blamed her death on Bo even more than Larry Welsh who'd been the cause of it…

"Tony."

He glanced up to meet Colin's nervous countenance and realized with a sinking feeling there was more. "Well?" he prompted.

Colin sucked in a deep breath, "your sister... her place, at least the one she and Commander Car…"

Whatever else Colin said lost itself to the blood that began pounding ferociously in his ears…Alexandra…she'd wandered through the doorway of the living room that first morning in Salem, staring at him, obviously worried he might disappear on her too, just like Father. Considering who she was, trust and acceptance were hardly automatic, nor were they emotions she bestowed lightly but still he'd managed to win her over, not through guile perhaps but it was a lie all the same, one that burned and hiding from it only made it worse because as soon as he shut his eyes, there was Stefano's voice booming in his head; arguing, explaining away his reasons for wanting Tony to cover up the facts about his 'death.' Hearing them again drove him closer to the edge, but they wouldn't disappear; she'd dealt with enough already, he'd told Tony, she was too fragile...more time was what she required. But time for what? And was it for Alexandra's benefit, or Stefano's? Why on earth would he drag her into the middle of this god awful mess? What could it possibly have to do with her? Or Abe…

But he was more than familiar with Stefano's opinion of his brother-in-law, and just the thought made his heart constrict as he remembered _her_ news, the amazing gift Alexandra had shared with him such a short while ago. A baby. The one she and Abe had spent years dreaming of and praying for and after practically giving up on having a child of her own, and her marriage, she'd conceived. The sight of her ecstatic face swam in front of him, sparkling with such joy, a feeling he'd never even seen her experience until that moment but the memory shattered into a million pieces that sent a howl of rage screaming through his head.

"God, not again," he begged silently, sick at the thought of having to watch Stefano lay waste to their lives one more time and thoroughly fed up with trying to discern the reason why. He slammed his fist against the wall wanting nothing more than the agony eating inside of him to stop.

Time crawled until his heart began to slow and his mind cleared, somewhat. When he opened his eyes, Colin appeared to be a few steps further away then before, and behind him, wearing his distress as candidly as ever, stood Eugene.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_Note: Back in the 80's, Tony's mother told him a few things about his real father, including a first name, Enrico, and that he'd worked for Stefano. I'm not positive where I heard that he was a gardener but I liked it, and I gave him a surname. It was Stefano who informed Tony that the man who Daphne betrayed him with, was in fact his best friend while Tony was locked up during the Slasher storyline._

Chapter Fifteen

Even with the door was wide open, the room seemed to have shrunk considerably and Tony couldn't wait to get out. Nodding with what he hoped was adequate reassurance for Gene's benefit, he set his cup down and strode over to follow his friend but as he reached Colin's side he hesitated. There was one house still missing from the list, one Stefano would not ignore. "My brother's penthouse was included also, yes?" he asked, beyond caring about what this revealed to the other occupants in the room.

"John and Marlena's?" said Colin, whose efforts to remain calm were taking a visible struggle. "Yes, it's there." He did manage not to flinch at least when Tony laid a hand on his shoulder although the stiffness cramping his muscles beneath the thin material of his t-shirt was hard to miss. With gentle pressure, Tony eased his cousin's body around just enough so their eyes met.

And he had to suppress a pang of guilt at the indignation simmering there. He'd not bothered to curb his temper in order to get the answers he needed, but Colin had already dealt with more suspicion and downright nasty behavior from those around him than nearly anyone else trapped in this situation and for no better reason than being born into the middle of someone else's insane war.

"Thank you." Two simple words and they took Colin by surprise but he could feel the sincerity behind them, and read it in Tony's expression. "I do appreciate your…" a faint quiver at the corner of his mouth softened Tony's otherwise anxious face, "leap of faith. I can't promise you won't regret your decision at some point, after all, this is Stefano we're talking about but I'll do my best." For a brief instant, a spark of understanding passed between them, or perhaps only intuition, except that Colin swore he hadn't imagined what was being offered; familiarity, even trust from a man who didn't exactly spread it around. With a quick squeeze, Tony's finger's released their grip and he disappeared, shutting the door behind him.

Almost at once, Colin sank down into the chair where Tony had been sitting only a short while ago and tried to grapple with everything, mostly the fact he was still breathing. It felt kind of like a miracle. Luck of this sort had never been part of his experience, not to mention consideration of any sort and to find it in Tony of all people, seemed outside the realm of possibility. And yet, here he was, still in one piece after spilling his guts.

He'd accepted his family's judgment of Tony; even believed the one man they'd all called a liar, Stefano because together, their stories dovetailed so neatly that he didn't even bother questioning their wisdom. What a laugh. Just the idea that both sides agreed should have made him think twice, but he'd stifled the inclination whenever it arose. After all, he was on the side that ought to win. The Brady side…his side, the one he'd chosen anyhow, only he wasn't so sure any longer. Honestly, he wasn't sure of anything at the moment except he was damn lucky to be alive and the man responsible for that wasn't a Brady.

With shaky fingers, he wiped the perspiration from his forehead and wondered once again what Tony up to. Why risk defying Stefano? The old man's desire to wreck havoc on his nemesis didn't seem to be the issue, since Tony was already aware of his relationship to John. Colin couldn't see that it mattered to him. Hatred festered, barely suppressed in the back of his eyes whenever the subject was broached in a way that made the rest of his act seemingly flawless, and not even his father's men could doubt his intentions. Certainly the Bradys didn't.

And if that weren't enough, they now believed Colin dead. Murdered. Oh, what glee Bo and Roman must be enjoying over such a blessed event. Not only had he disappeared from their lives, but he'd provided them with an excuse to zero in on the obvious prime suspect, and a small detail like the fact that they cared less than nothing about Colin and whether he was alive or dead would hardly prevent them from enjoying their witch hunt. They'd never pass up a golden opportunity such as this to destroy the DiMeras and who would even remember Colin when it was all over, or grieve for him, except his mother, and Uncle Shawn.

Colin sighed. Unfortunately his uncle's reaction to the news of his death was rather a forgone conclusion. He'd demand Tony be arrested. From the moment Colin had broken the news to him that Tony was alive and planned on returning, Shawn's attitude had only disintegrated to a point of near irrational hatred. According to Shawn, the whole lot of them were damned. And in light of the history between the two families, Colin hadn't been all that leery of his attitude until the day of Stefano's memorial service.

Of course he'd been privy to some of what the will encompassed but Stefano had refused to share what he had in store for Shawn. Instead he'd instructed Colin to concentrate on his uncle's behavior and when Colin had voiced his concerns, Stefano reassured him of only one thing; Colin's parentage would remain a secret.

And it was a promise he'd kept because the gift, while provocative had also been quite a bit more ambiguous then Colin expected, so Shawn's assumption that the model was a bomb stirred doubts in his mind as to just what Shawn was hiding and he'd pressed his uncle but Shawn equivocated, and the exchange which began above the pub a couple of nights after the service didn't get him much further than the one they'd had outside the mansion while the will was still being read.

"But why won't you just tell me? You had to have had some reason for assuming it was a bomb…"

"For heaven's sake boy, this is Stefano we're talking about. I worry…"

"About what?" Colin pounced, because he knew exactly what his uncle feared. "Don't give me that line about being frightened of Stefano. The only thing you're worried about is the family hearing the truth about my father and your part in covering up the whole mess."

"That's not true."

"Oh no? You're not terrified of what you're sons will say when they find out you're sheltering a DiMera in their midst? And not just any DiMera," he laughed, "a spawn of Andre no less."

"Don't talk that way about yourself. You'll never be one of them and you must believe me when I tell you that there are no lengths I won't go to in order to protect you, as I have from the beginning."

"You want to keep me safe?" Colin shot back at him. "Then tell me what this horrendous secret is you're keeping before I'm forced to hear it from Tony DiMera or his father."

A moment of shock had stilled Shawn's face at those words, a brief candid shot of recognition, but he'd quickly regained his composure and reiterated once more that only his silence kept them all safe.

"Bloody hell," Colin whispered under his breath, as his uncle's stunned face hovered in his mind. No wonder he'd been so vehement where Tony was concerned and instantly, without bothering to reconsider, he was up and out of the chair and as he reached the door which was still locked securely, began pounding on it.

"What?"

The word came hurling at him with annoyance and he found himself face to face with Tony who'd pushed the door open and stood waiting, and not with a great deal of patience Colin noticed, piquing his curiosity until a second later when his eyes connected with the figure seated a few feet away next to the desk. Dark penetrating eyes stared at him, and Colin froze. Shane Donavan…Cousin Kimberly's ex-husband and a man practically married to the ISA.

Colin's glance flew back to Tony. "Surely you wouldn't be stupid enough to trust what you know to him, not with everyone Stefano has working for him at…"

"That's a topic I haven't any intention of discussing with you," Tony interrupted in a rather mild tone of voice, his arm stretching across the doorway to block the open space between Colin and the other room. "So, you wished to add something to our conversation, I believe, or was all that noise merely a reminder that we'd forgotten your lunch?"

"I…no," he sputtered momentarily, as he forced himself to regain some semblenence of composure and a handle on his temper. It was too late to change his mind after what he'd already revealed to Tony. He could only hope this wasn't a horrible blunder. "I um…I think Uncle Shawn is under the impression that you came back with an agenda in mind." He heard Shane snort in derision.

So did Tony from the look on his face, but he ignored it. "You mean about John?" A hint of a smile played at the edge of his mouth now.

Colin almost forgot himself and laughed. "Probably, but what I suspect has to do with what we were speaking of earlier, about Ireland."

Whatever amusement still lingered in Tony's eyes vanished and the round serious gaze that replaced it made Colin breath just a bit easier. "Perhaps you'd care to explain."

"I'm pretty sure he believes you know what happened."

Though his arm didn't remove itself from in front of Colin, his gaze dropped and then drifted over to rest on a woman Colin hadn't spotted before and didn't even recognize for a moment or two. He'd never actually met her though he'd seen photographs hanging in the pub. And they hardly did her justice. The living, breathing Anna DiMera lounging with her feet tucked up into the only other chair in the room radiated a magnetism that any man would find irresistible, not to mention the fact she was stunning, even with the frown plastered across her face that made her look as though she was pouting as she studied Colin. "Did he actually confirm that Tony knew the whole story?"

"No," Colin admitted, "but only because he desperately wanted to change the subject. We'd never really hashed it out until after what happened at the memorial service. I had no idea Uncle Shawn would react the way he did and your father," he said, turning back to look at Tony, "warned me to pay attention once he opened his gift…"

"But didn't tell you why."

Surprised at Tony's lack of sarcasm, Colin shook his head. "No."

"So you didn't tell Shawn what you knew about the will," said Shane with an almost lazy drawl to his voice.

"I didn't know what anything meant." Colin protested quickly.

"That wasn't my question."

Colin could feel everyone's eyes on him, waiting. He thought about lying, knowing there wouldn't be much Shane could do about it at this point since trying to question Shawn would only make him suspicious. He glanced at Tony and paused on the verge of answering. Whatever was going on here, it involved everyone in this room and he reminded himself of the risk they all ran keeping him alive, especially Tony who, for whatever reason, seemed willing to take his chances with him, and so stifling the urge to take the easy way out, he said, "No. I didn't share any of it with him."

Shane opened his mouth, ready to question Colin but the chuckle that escaped Tony made him stop. "You have doubts about your uncle too."

Wetting his lips nervously, Colin nodded.

For a moment, the room took on an uncomfortable stillness which Shane finally broke by asking the question that he could tell was on everyone's mind. "What exactly has Stefano told you about Shawn?"

Ticked off at having to deal with Donavan's insinuations, Colin felt his temper beginning to fray once more. "It's not what he's said, damn it," he snapped at the man sitting only a few feet away on the other side of Tony. "My god, I can't get either of them to answer a single bloody question I ask but they..." He broke off when Shane raised an eyebrow. "Fine, you want to know what he said, the only bloody thing he's ever told me when I get curious? Probably the same thing he's told you," he said, eyeing Tony again, the disgust on his face and in his voice barely under control, "that I'd understand it all in the end."

Shane's expression was dubious. "It?"

"I presume whatever happened between the two of them."

"And you expect us to believe that you have no idea of what that is."

"Why the hell would I keep it a secret since Stefano wants me dead?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Colin saw a smile inch up Tony's face and Shane, though obviously not satisfied in the least, turned away impatiently. Tony, however wasn't finished.

"He spilled the news to you about John and I, even before he informed me of the relationship, didn't he?"

"Before…?" It took a few seconds of confusion and then the implication dawned, the one Colin realized he'd ignored from the beginning due to his own preconceptions, but now it all made sense; Shane's presence here in this room, Tony's seeming ignorance about his father's plans, even their questions about Shawn, and more important, why his cousin would risk Stefano's displeasure and possible retaliation. Tony was being used and he knew it.

"I'm sorry," said Colin, tearing his eyes away to scowl down at the floor, "I had no idea he'd kept it from you all along. I just assumed…"

"That I lied," Tony finished for him with that smooth cultured accent that only served to heighten the sense of irony involved.

Colin didn't attempt to deny the accusation. He'd fallen for the ruse just as Stefano anticipated, and the old man had even less to worry about when it came to the rest of Salem, the fact of Tony's parentage being all it took for some people. Swallowing, with a knot in his throat that made it painful, Colin looked up to find Tony's dark sympathetic eyes trained on him.

What a waste of time searching out some hidden, convoluted motive instead of paying attention to the one thing he'd learned about Stefano first hand. The man manipulated everyone, Lexie included, so why not his son into the bargain as well? Not even his children were safe which made Colin's life worth spit and this thought sent a chill descending through him until it permeated every bone in his body and left him with a decidedly sour taste in his mouth once he faced the truth of his situation. The _only_ thing standing between him and Stefano was Tony.

Despite the gratitude he felt at being alive, a sense of resentment boiled deep within at the thought of being obligated to anyone, particularly a family member. He'd spent his entire life in that position even before he knew why and he was more than sick of it. Always the debt he owed being shoved in his face and used to point out his less than stellar performance as a Brady, as though they were all saints. Hypocrites more like, he fumed silently and his eye lit on Anna sitting a few feet away. Another former member of the family. He'd heard plenty of stories about her shortcomings, both as a mother and a Brady, but somehow he could never accept their faultfinding as anything other than jealousy, especially when he'd spotted her photographs. In them, he saw a woman who offered no apologies for her behavior; he could see it in her eyes as though she defied anyone to argue the point. And she wasn't back in Salem trying to fit into her daughter's family, Colin perceived all of the sudden, but here, supporting Tony, even after he'd walked away from their marriage.

Quickly his gaze traveled to each of the other occupants of the room; Shawn's ex-son-in-law, the only man Colin knew besides Abe Carver who seemed incapable of living with a compromise, and the stranger, the one who'd burst into Colin's cell within seconds of hearing the disclosure about Lexie's house. From the looks that passed from him to Tony and back again, it seemed obvious they shared a bond that went beyond that of mere camaraderie. Between them, Colin realized there was a trust born of experiences that he could only guess at. Which brought him once again to the man standing in front of him, a man whose behavior drove him crazy more often than not. In fact, Colin had rarely met anyone as irritating, demanding, and short tempered as Tony, or as arrogant when he felt it necessary, not to mention, he'd spent the last six months lying to Colin and everyone else in town.

Exactly as Colin and his uncle were doing. Such a prickly, embarrassing fact really he had to admit when he faced up to it under these circumstances.

And to be fair, if Tony had tried to be honest with anyone, especially his brother, where would he be now? Knowing Stefano, and the good people of Salem, Colin thought with a grimace, probably dead.

"I learned about you and John being brothers last year. Back in the spring," Colin told him, still not certain why he felt the urge to trust this man.

"I see," Tony nodded. "And your uncle, did you share this with him?"

"No."

Tony's face shifted so that it is registered his disbelief. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, I never got the chance to tell him about you and John."

"The chance? You've known for months, long before I arrived back in town and if you were suspicious about the blueprints you found, surely that suspicion must have increased when I breezed into town prepared to carry on where Stefano left off."

"I thought about it, but I…" the excuse he'd planned to use died quickly at the sight of Tony's now calculating gaze.

"Well?" Tony prompted after a moment of silence. "Go on. We're all dying to hear this one I expect."

Colin glanced down at Tony's arm still barring his way and then back up at Tony but his cousin just smiled, and waited, so folding his arms, Colin leaned against the door frame. "If you insist," he said, resigning himself to the fact that he might as well get it over with and tell them everything. "Your father gave me a file to read," he began, resisting the urge to look away, "one including every scrap of information he'd collected over the years that dealt with your life, or so he said. There were periods unaccounted for but funny enough in addition to you, it detailed a large portion of John's life as well."

"Ah yes, all that training Stefano provided him and so forth."

A small, uneasy smile thinned Colin's mouth. "Not exactly."

And with a suddenness that made him realize just how nervous they all were, those two words gained him everyone's undivided attention.

"According to what was in that file, he raised John as…well, just as he had the rest of his children."

"That's ludicrous," Shane laughed and Colin could tell that Tony agreed with him.

"John was never part of the family."

"I said, _like_ the other children, not with them and besides you weren't around," Colin pointed out, "so how would you know?"

"Because I too had information, and…" Tony's voice drifted off. He heard himself confronting Stefano in the hospital, furious at the deception that his father had played on him. He'd allowed his anger to rule him back then. Suggesting that Daphne had switched him and his brother sprang primarily from his frustration and he'd given not two seconds thought to the reason for Stefano's livid reaction but what did he truly know about John's life or Stefano's motives, or about a past he didn't share with either of them? If Stefano had managed to keep the fact that he and John were brothers a secret for all these years, what else was he hiding? "I thought," he said, in a calmer tone now, "that John's family placed him at a boarding school in New York after his 'accident.'"

Colin shook his head. "No, not his family, Stefano. The file was…explicit. Stefano used blackmail to get his way; he warned your aunt and her husband that Lawrence would meet the same fate as Forrest unless they cooperated…"

A chuckle interrupted his tale at this point and glancing over, he realized it was Tony's mysterious friend. He was a tall compared to everyone else in the room and even leaning against the wall he was nearly a head above all of them but otherwise he seemed the image of a mild mannered gentleman, quiet with an agreeable face except that now it betrayed a cynicism Colin would never have imagined him capable of. "Sounds just like your father," the man observed in a dry voice to Tony, who stood looking faintly disgusted but didn't argue, so after a moment, Colin went on.

"From what I read, Stefano treated him as a son except that he didn't acknowledge him or allow him anywhere near the rest of the family. There were private tutors and lessons, extravagant gifts, Stefano would even visit him at school. And he arranged for John to attend Cambridge."

"Oh lord," Tony snorted sarcastically. "Now there's an image."

"According to the file, he was brilliant at rugby," Colin ventured.

"Yes," said Tony, whose laugher was far more snide than amused. "John's athleticism is no doubt legendary but the same could hardly be said for my father's track record when it comes to honesty."

"Perhaps, but in this case, his story pans out."

Tony's eyebrow eased up a notch. "Since I know you're smart enough not to accept his word on that…" he said, letting his question hang in the air.

"Yes, well I did a little digging of my own," Colin replied, eyeing his cousin squarely. "At the school and a few other avenues at my disposal. On the books, John's tuition was paid by a subsidiary of Alamain industries, but when traced back through oh…three or four other corporations, it leads, albeit indirectly, to your father."

Shane spoke up now. "How indirectly?"

"The account used belonged to one of Stefano's employees."

A pallor crept across Tony's face and he turned a glance at his friend whose eyes had widened in surprise. "Which one?" Tony asked softly.

"It was one of the gardeners, which I remember since it stuck me as such an odd choice."

"Did you check out the man?"

"Yes," said Colin, who knew he was missing something important here. "He was killed in an accident a number of years after your mother took you away."

"But Stefano used his name, even after he was dead as a way to funnel money."

Colin nodded.

There was a pause that Colin could see was hesitation on Tony's part and then he asked, "You learned his name?"

"Castellana, Enrico Castellana."

Except for a split second when the anguish dulling his eyes was unmistakable, Tony's face became a mask, completely unreadable. Everyone else in the room looked on in shock and after several tense moments, Colin wished that someone would have the curtsey tell him what the hell was going on.

"Well," said Tony, managing a wry smile finally, "no one could ever accuse Stefano of missing the irony in a situation."

"Or using it to his advantage," added Shane quietly.

Tony's smile twisted into a bitter line. "No."

"Wait a minute, are you saying this man knew what Stefano was doing," asked Colin, straightening up from his slouched position next to the wall, gaze darting swiftly around the room, "that Stefano used him on purpose? When no one answered, he eyed Tony. "Why? He was just a gardener for heaven's sake."

"That gardener was…"

"One of my father's oldest friends," said Tony, cutting off Shane before he had a chance to get any further. "They grew up together but had a falling out of sorts over a…" he stopped and then shrugged with distaste. "Well, the reason doesn't matter really." Resisting the urge to sigh, he beamed a charming smile at Colin and changed the subject. "So, when did this idyllic existence of John's come to an end?"

Colin could have choked on his exasperation. All the more so since he knew that pursuing the topic would merely hit the wall of his cousin's sense of discretion. Here he was stuck in the middle of another family where privacy reigned supreme.

"Interesting you should ask that," he said, shooting a smile back, "because it wasn't until after you returned to Europe from your mother's house. In fact it was a few years later and the last mention of him is a trip the family went on altogether, the only one where he was included so far as I can tell. It was someplace in northern Italy, and most of the family went along, except for you."

Tony's face looked noncommittal. "Interesting…why?"

There's a couple of things. I can't be sure that they're connected but the timing is suspicious and…" Though Tony seemed to be listening patiently, Colin recognized the wariness creeping into his expression. "Perhaps I need to start from the other end first. Would you by any chance remember a woman by the name of Eleanor Torricelli?"

At first, Tony shook his head but it slowed a second later. "Ellie, yes," and a smile on his face spread slowly into a grin. "My prearranged wife."

Across the room, Anna raised one finely arched eyebrow but Tony shrugged easily. "Stefano's solution to my wild and raucous youth," he explained to her, still grinning wickedly from ear to ear. "He was always in such a hurry to marry us all off, even if he never managed to get what he wanted in the end." His eyes twinkled with bemusement. "Her family had business connections and such and he figured he'd easily talk me into an arrangement that would keep me settled down and provide him with new capital, and of course, grandchildren. I'm afraid I sorely disappointed him on both counts."

"Did you ever meet her?" asked Shane curiously. He appeared to be even more interested in the whole story than Anna, Colin noticed.

"Yes, we had a bit of…fun together," Tony said, thinking back. "I admit I was infuriated at first but a friend suggested that an argument over the subject would hardly be constructive unless I found her unappealing." Curiously, Tony's eyes lingered on Anna instead of Shane as he recounted this seemingly inconsequential bit of history and Colin got the impression that they were sharing similar thoughts, ones that didn't include anyone else in the room. "Actually she was quite lovely," said Tony, almost absent mindedly. "She probably would have made a fine mother but…well, we didn't have too much in common."

"So, what happened?" Shane prodded in a tone just loud enough to pull Tony's attention back to the subject at hand.

"Oh, Stefano and I had a terrific row that went on for days and I got fed up and left. Went back to Paris."

"That was the end of it?"

"As I recall, yes. I think she died a year or so afterwards. A boating accident or something like that comes to mind," he said, and turned back to look questioningly at Colin.

"That's right, in the Mediterranean," Colin told him.

"So, what does any of this have to do with John?" Shane inquired with the merest hint of concern in his voice as though he sensed where this was all heading.

Tony glanced from Shane to Colin, who appeared reluctant all of the sudden, and it set off a warning in the back of his mind. "I don't see what any of this could possibly have to do with John since Ellie ended up engaged to someone else in rather short order and both of them died in the accident."

"You're certain of that?" Colin asked.

"No," said Tony, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "I'm simply relaying what I remember."

"Did you ever meet her husband?"

"I'm not in the mood for twenty questions here," Tony warned him, "so whatever you learned, I want to hear it."

"Okay," Colin murmured, wondering how to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of fireworks. "The write-up Stefano had of your 'relationship' with Mademoiselle Torricelli was several pages long but most of it was blacked out, except for the parts you've already mentioned, and two additional facts. First, she went with your family on the vacation I mentioned."

Tony shrugged once again. "That's hardly out of the ordinary, we invited friends along all the time."

"Only you didn't invite her because it was already a couple of months after you'd refused to marry her, and, before that trip, John postponed his entrance into Cambridge for an entire year."

Although it required him to nearly bite his tongue in two, Tony managed to smother the laughter welling up at such an obviously contrived coincidence. "Stefano can engineer any history he likes although why he thinks I'd give a damn about John winding up with a woman I didn't want…"

"Even if he married her and raised your children?"

Tony's eyes narrowed considerably.

"There was a child?" An image flickered in his mind, one of Celeste sitting at Stefano's memorial service holding a row of paper dolls stretched out in her hands. "Was that in the file too?"

"No." Colin said slowly, and he frowned. "To be honest, I had the same reaction as you. The whole thing had the feel of being set up, so I figured all I had to do was prove that she didn't go along on the trip but instead I discovered someone that confirmed she was in fact pregnant at the time she agreed to join the rest of the family on their little jaunt up to the mountains. And she did go along."

Silence followed this revelation but the anxiety Colin sensed in Tony's demeanor answered at least one of his questions; obviously Tony had slept with the girl.

"And this source of yours, who is it?" Tony asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Her doctor."


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

The tranquility in the room and his ability to pick up the soft humming of the computer monitor, and even his own heart beating did nothing to calm Tony's nerves now that he was alone but instead grated on his already exasperated disposition. They'd all disappeared; Colin trailing behind Eugene and Anna who were intent on settling him into one of the guest bedrooms and Shane, who'd grumbled to no one in particular about making sure they had a meal waiting for them in a few hours. They'd gone off on purpose Tony knew, so he could think, which of course was the last thing he felt like doing.

"Be careful what you wish for, Count," he muttered, squinting into the bleak and sterile emptiness that surrounded him. He'd expected answers out of Colin, in fact he'd demanded them and received exactly what he'd asked for, only the answers weren't the solutions he'd been seeking, merely avenues to more mysteries, more reasons to suspect his brother of things he didn't truly want to learn, and despise Stefano, who'd done nothing but manipulate and ruin their lives. What possibility did they have of a relationship now and how on earth was he supposed to go back to Salem and even pretend to be civil at this point? And not only to John, but Shawn Brady as well.

A dull ache spreading through the back of his neck made him shy away from this quandary, but another, even more disturbing one immediately took its place. There was a child out there…_his_ child. Ellie had gotten pregnant, and Colin, with rather more thoroughness than Tony would have given him credit for, had narrowed the field of candidates down to only two men, a friend of Ellie's brother, and Tony. There was no guarantee since Ellie was hardly a shrinking violet but he figured the chances of the child being his were more than even. In fact, he wouldn't have put it past either his father or Ellie's to have set the whole damn thing up. She'd been eager enough to hop into his bed he recalled.

The one man who couldn't be the father was John, who at the time was out of the country. Obviously, Stefano convinced himself that Tony was the baby's father and had no intention of loosing his grandchild to any of the other potential suitors available to the young lady though Tony supposed it was feasible that Stefano had been determined to get his hands on the resources that came along with the marriage and when Tony refused to have her, he'd turned to John as a replacement.

Whatever the old man's intentions at the time, Tony knew he needed to locate Ellie's son or daughter and he was certain that any knowledge of their whereabouts would be a secret that only Stefano possessed. A pretty dilemma that was too, since he'd gone to great lengths making sure his father believed Colin's murder had really happened. It would make explaining how he'd stumbled onto what was in the file touchy to say the least.

And why would Stefano direct Colin to inspect the file in the first place?

Whose education did he mean to improve with such a deliberate and inflammatory piece of history? Certainly not just Colin's. If no one else he bet Stefano counted on Colin relaying the information to Shawn who would see it as merely another excuse on Tony's part to go after John, but what of the other section of the puzzle he'd provided Colin, the one that pertained to the boat and Shawn's reaction? Had Shawn planted a bomb? And even if that was the case, what did it have to do with he and John or Ellie and her child?

What link could there be in all these mismatched bits of information, people in Salem, events in Ireland, and he and John's missing memories of their past. Tony couldn't see how any one of them related to another.

Or was he going about this all the wrong way? Perhaps instead of trying to connect the dots between the events he'd discovered so far, he ought to be concentrating on the holes, like whatever horrific incident had set Shawn and Stefano on this collision course and what would make Shawn believe that Tony gave a damn. It couldn't merely be Colin's existence. Shawn knew Tony better than to think he'd take out his revenge on Andre's son, or the Bradys for keeping it a secret. Tony had always made it perfectly clear that when it came to Andre, he blamed Stefano…

This thought elicited a snort of disgusted laughter and as it broke through the silence in the room he reminded himself bitterly that nothing he said to these people made a difference since his return. They didn't even see him as a person. To them he was a copy of Stefano and every other DiMeras they cared to remember, complete with a self serving agenda. He sighed and shut his eyes, concentrating in an effort to ease the pressure building in his head, a familiar sensation he'd learned to pay attention to over the last several months as it had the tendency of ballooning into a monumental headache, or worse.

Trying to wheedle the past out of those involved in this mess had taken on a most annoying pattern lately so that he'd begun to feel as though he were in a room with nothing but trick mirrors.

Like that journal with its ridiculous tale which made not one iota of sense either…unless… Tony's eyes shot open and he breathed out a lingering, incredulous whistle, "why, you sly devil," he chuckled, admiring his father's ingenuity in sliding such effectively diffused veneer over the truth, "it's all there, isn't it?" The journal really did provide answers, just not the literal ones Tony expected at first glance and he couldn't help feeling the tiniest bit amused at the old man's affinity for creating a clever puzzle. The entire thing was a metaphor. Shawn hadn't actually killed the child, but he'd taken him away from the family where he belonged, at least in Stefano's view. Forced him to grow up as a Brady. In essence, Shawn had deprived Colin of his birthright, though what kind of life Colin would have had as Andre's son seemed questionable to Tony. Of course after the fact, such insights worked splendidly but not the other way around. Deciphering his father's twisted view of a past with not enough facts to go on defied logic and the idea of being forced into the position of playing by his father's rules triggered a horde of old prejudices he'd developed over the years. An interesting challenge yes, but being controlled this way infuriated him.

The bastard just _never_ quit.

"Why, damn it," he hissed, seeing once more the sight of Stefano's face back in that hospital in Switzerland with a hurt but still defiant glare that had regarded Tony from only inches away and stirred up painful memories of their past along with a day Tony had worked diligently to forget altogether. The day he'd admitted the truth to Stefano. They had no connection, no ties of blood, and more important, no reason to protect each other. What a sense of utter desolation clouded Stefano's eyes when he realized what Tony meant and it was a memory that had etched itself into Tony's soul and refused to fade with time or circumstance. Oh, he'd felt justified after Andre murdered Renee, and even more so after he learned of his mother's death but no amount of raging anger could obliterate the grief either of them lived with, and as Tony knew all too well, this was a state of affairs his father wasn't above using because now it appeared the spectacle Stefano had encouraged him to accept about John's past was no more than a lie.

If Tony chose to believe Colin then Stefano hadn't destroyed John because of his paternity. It was something else, an event or action on John's part perhaps. Tony had dug up the story about Kristen's parents after Anna mentioned it in Paris but he understood Stefano better than to think he'd ruin John to keep a secret; erase his memory yes, even eliminate him if necessary but not hound or torture or repeatedly humiliate him. The mention of John's name didn't alarm Stefano, but produced a vicious sheen in his eye and a ghastly indescribable pain Tony couldn't bring himself to dismiss as mere selfishness. After all, it was an expression Tony had experienced first hand.

One of those unforgettable moments in life, a look of bitter fury glaring at him from a monitor in his prison and revealing the expression of a man who'd been betrayed by the very people he'd believed in and trusted the most.

How long had Stefano lived with that knowledge, letting it eat at his soul before it finally destroyed him and their entire family, or was learning that Tony belonged to his 'friend' simply the last straw?

Immersed as he was in his memories, Tony didn't hear the door or notice Eugene's presence in the room until the sound of someone clearing their throat startled him. Turning from his stance in the doorway where he'd been staring into Colin's empty quarters, he found his friend sitting near the computer, feet propped up and eyeing him with that distinctive air of curiosity and restraint which Tony remembered vividly. Most people who met Eugene didn't realize what a truly private person he was underneath the humor.

"Showing him to the right room took you two long enough," he said, checking his watch, "I was beginning to think you might have stayed to tuck him in."

Eugene's eyes got big. "Anna tucking a man into bed," he said with a mock shudder but totally straight face, "I don't think I'd be giving her ideas if I were you."

"When was that ever necessary?" said Tony, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "I take it you are convinced about Colin though." He purposely ignored the more obvious questions he knew had to be churning in Eugene's mind considering everything thrown at him earlier.

"Yes….yes I am," Eugene said, looking almost surprised about admitting the fact out loud, "or at least to a greater degree than Shane," he qualified on second thought, and smiled, "but then I've not had the pleasure of watching the lad mess with his family as Shane believed was the case over the last couple of years…

Tony shook his head. "Colin, a lad. Bet that's not the first adjective Shane would use."

"Or you either," Gene returned knowingly and his quickness made Tony smile too.

"He does have a number of his father's disturbing attributes but I'll admit, he had me fooled as well which is rather ironic given that I had no idea the relationship existed until now."

"Everything about this situation seems ironic if you ask me."

"I think you mean depraved," Tony pointed out and his laughter had a decidedly bitter taste.

The corner of Eugene's mouth inched sideways. "That too."

This acknowledgement stopped the conversation cold for several moments but then Eugene chuckled. "Considering the number of times we've found ourselves in this position, I don't see why a solution isn't staring us in the face."

Listening to Gene include himself in the situation touched Tony deeply. He'd grown used to dealing with the instant suspicion of people he'd considered friends but whose awareness of his history with Stefano hadn't stopped them from siding with John and believing the worst of Tony based on nothing but the contents of a journal. To hear that there was still someone from the old days who remembered how Stefano operated and didn't automatically judge him because of it was the one thing he needed right now, more than he'd realized. It choked him up so that it took a minute before he managed, "Solutions have been in pretty short supply since this whole thing began so if you've got one, I'd appreciate hearing it."

Eugene shook his head. "If you mean my vibes…"

"Yes," Tony said hopefully.

"I'm afraid not a one."

"But you're so sure about Colin."

"Sorry," said Eugene, regretfully, "that's just intuition."

Tony turned away, trying to hide his disappointment and after taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Okay. So what is your intuition telling you?"

"That you and your brother have some serious issues to work through?"

This time, Tony had to choke back the laughter that threatened to burst forth at such a gross understatement and wondered not for the first time about Eugene's impression of John. He swung around to face his friend. "Perhaps you have a few suggestions…"

"Oh Tony, that's hardly my place."

Tony swallowed the sarcasm that instantly reared its ugly head. "I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't…"

"Ready to kill him?" quipped Eugene with a smirk.

"This is not funny Gene."

There was something in the tone of his voice that made Eugene blink as if startled, a certain degree of panic and frustration. No matter how desperate things gotten in the past, he'd never known Tony to loose it. The man had withstood everything Stefano had thrown at him over the years with a grace and character that Eugene couldn't help but admire considering the circumstances and he'd not worried overly about Tony's stability until he'd received the news about what had transpired in Arimed. Since then he'd consoled himself with the idea that at least Tony was no longer at the mercy of Stefano but here they were, all over again. How much could anyone take? And what of all the others involved, especially the ones who didn't realize they _were_ involved yet.

"Look, I've only heard about your problems with John second hand, so I'm not exactly in a position to judge what's going on…"

A tick at the corner on Tony's eye was the only indication that he was irritated. "But?"

"Everything you've learned so far has been delivered compliments of Stefano," Eugene reminded him. "In fact, he went out of his way to make certain the two of you were at each other's throats from the very moment you met each other."

Tony glanced down but not before Eugene caught the confusion that stole across his face. "And until recently, I chose to believe Stefano had his own selfish motives for that; whether it was hiding whatever awful truth John kept locked up in his subconscious or Mother, but now, after listening to Colin…my God, what the hell went on all those years ago?" he asked, as though he was thinking aloud. "Is it possible it was so appalling that Stefano would do whatever was necessary to bury it?"

"You mean something that John did?"

"I don't know," said Tony, and he closed his aching eyes. "But I've witnessed the intensity of Stefano's hatred at just the mention of his name and that rage in his eye, I became quite familiar with that expression when it was aimed in my direction." There was a pause and then, "you know, he felt I betrayed him."

Tony had never talked about his imprisonment and Eugene hadn't asked. It wasn't exactly a subject for polite conversation, and the ordeal hadn't improved Tony's ability to trust anyone after being locked up and very nearly killed by his own family. Even Anna wouldn't discuss it after Arimed, so Eugene had always assumed that Stefano's vendetta with Tony was simply a matter of his paternity.

"Excuse me, but that seems a bit ludicrous, even for Stefano. Holding you responsible for your mother's actions?"

Tony agreed with a painful smile. "I was bitter about all of it back then, especially his accusations which seemed to me totally unjustified..."

His voice trailed off and Eugene waited, not wanting to push.

Tony glanced up after a moment of silence. "Another little quirk of fate, if you will," he managed, narrowing his eyes, "he blamed me for turning my back on him after he kidnapped Liz and Marlena."

"Oh, don't do this to yourself Tony. Don't allow him to twist it all around as though you did something you need to be ashamed of…"

"Are you so certain that I didn't? Tony broke in before he could get any further. "When I came back ten years later I kept silent under the same circumstances, even though I _knew_ what he was capable of, and worse, what he'd put John through in the past. Marlena had every reason to be scared of the things he'd do to John, and I lied right to her face."

"But not to save Stefano," Eugene pointed out.

Tony's scowl was almost savage. "No, worse yet, I did it for myself, to save _my_ marriage..."

"That's your guilt talking, not you," Eugene told him and it was enough to make Tony stop and listen. "Hell, that's his guilt talking and I know you better than that," he said, eyeing his friend with a level gaze, and just the hint of a smile playing at the edge of his mouth. "Tell me something…if you don't mind me butting in," he said, a bit self-consciously, "You loved Kristen, didn't you?"

Tony nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"And you knew what would happen once she learned the truth about him. My god, you watched it all happen before, watched Renee turn into someone we barely recognized after he was caught at Ridgecrest. Why are you beating yourself up over this?"

"Why aren't you?"

Eugene's eyebrow shot up and Tony swore that for a second, he almost looked insulted. "Kindly do not mistake me for tha…for your brother."

"A minute ago you were telling me I ought to give him the benefit of the doubt."

But Eugene merely shrugged. "That's another situation entirely."

Gazing thoughtfully at his friend, Tony tried to tell himself that this attitude shouldn't surprise him given Gene's devotion to Marlena, but for some reason, it did. "Whatever you think of him Gene, he's made her happy…"

"Not until he'd dragged her through the mud first, which is something I'd expect you could relate to."

"Alright, but I don't think we can say that most of what Marlena went through during those years was necessarily his fault."

"Oh? I disagree," said Eugene with a vehement shake of his head. "Marlena made her choice when Roman came back and if John truly loved her the way he claimed to, he would have collected his wife and child and left, regretfully I'll grant you, but departed nonetheless. She needed a space to begin her life with Roman all over again which is something she had not a chance in hell of getting with _him_ there as a constant reminder."

"You honestly think that would have made a difference?" asked Tony, his voice soft as he remembered the way Marlena had looked at her husband in the midst of all the chaos and brash tempers being indulged the night he'd returned to Salem.

There was a lengthy pause and then Eugene admitted, "I don't know, maybe not, but you and I both learned long ago the folly of pretending that love can get very far without trust, and it's an absolute travesty without honor. That's what he robbed her of, and after she'd had the decency to leave him be when he married Victor's daughter of all people."

The room fell silent for several minutes after this comment until a chuckle escaped Tony's lips. "This isn't the argument I envisioned having with you."

"What made you imagine we'd have one at all?"

"Experience?" said Tony lightly, though his face grew tight.

Eugene's own gaze dropped to his lap and when it came back up, his eyes projected a coldness rare for him and something Tony hadn't witnessed in a long time. "I'll be honest with you, when I first heard about the events at Jennifer Horton's wedding and learned that you were dead, I assumed the worst of everyone involved; Stefano, and your family who seemed to have walked away and left you to fend for yourself, the good people of Salem who only cared to pay lip service, and most especially, John. I bit my tongue with Marlena but I had little sympathy where he was concerned and when the journal came to light, it only confirmed my worst fears." Gene stopped abruptly and seemed to be collecting his thoughts. "John may not have pulled that trigger," he continued finally, his voice now carrying a hard edge, "but his behavior created an impossible situation and drove you, I thought, into taking desperate measures you never would have attempted in your right mind. He did as much to cause your ruin as Stefano ever had, and all to satisfy his own selfish needs. Now, there's a Stefano trait if I ever saw one," Gene snorted. "_And_ to top it all off, he proceeded to desert Marlena after everything she'd sacrificed and moved right on with Kristen."

"From what I understand, he wasn't aware of…"

"He should have been," insisted Gene, "and you know as well as I do, that if we were speaking of Roman, none of this would have happened."

To that sentiment, Tony had no argument. "Is Marlena aware of your feelings?"

"Probably," Gene said, wearing a sad smile. "She never had the slightest trouble reading me."

Tony stared at him and though he didn't smile, his eyes grew softer and took on a luminous shine that made him suddenly look years younger. "Maybe that's because the two of you are so much alike."

Now it was Gene's turn to look surprised, and not at the idea really as much as hearing Tony say it out loud. He'd missed that quality in Tony's temperament. There weren't that many people he knew willing to let their guard down, even privately and now that he'd experienced it again, he could admit to himself how worried he'd been until this moment that perhaps all the stories circulating were true and Tony had changed.

When he'd discussed it with Marlena, she didn't sound convinced exactly but Gene had recognized the fear in her voice. She suspected Tony's motives. Of course, in between what she'd divulged regarding Tony, and what she'd conspicuously left out of the story when it came to her husband's behavior, Gene had guessed that she was perhaps even more afraid of what John might do if the situation continued to heat up. To be frank, so was Gene.

John and his brother despised each other thanks to Stefano, so the predicament they found themselves in, which already bordered on volatile only worsened as Stefano fueled the fire with these hints he continued providing. He was baiting them purposely. Every new piece of the past he revealed seemed to be designed specifically as a means to keeping them at each other's throats, almost as though he wished to keep them occupied, even distracted from whatever else might be going on. Neither of them were unobservant, but they were afraid of loosing what they cared about the most and that, Gene knew, served as a means to cloud their judgment.

"Speaking of Arimed," he said hesitantly, not exactly sure how to broach the subject, "I've been meaning to bring this up with you ever since I got here but we haven't had anytime to ourselves and, well…" He took a deep breath. "Have you considered that the account Stefano fed you about what happened right before everything went down is…I don't know, doesn't quite fit?"

Tony had wandered over to the work table that ran the length of the wall near to the door and opened up the small refrigerator tucked underneath at one end to pull out a bottle of water. "You mean because he was supposed to have amnesia?"

"Well yes, partially."

"This is Stefano we're talking about Gene," said Tony with a bemused smile as he cracked the lid on the bottle and lifted it up to his lips.

"Yes, yes, I know but Marlena spoke to me afterwards about the whole affair and, while I don't necessarily have trouble believing he might have faked it, I'm a bit more leery when it comes to Andre's involvement, especially Stefano's account of it." Meeting Tony's gaze, one that was much more alert than only a moment ago, he waited.

"And you suspect Andre of what? asked Tony, a dubious light gleaming in his eye. "Pulling off the whole thing on his own?"

Eugene's feet slid off the chair in front of him and he leaned forward. "Let me put it this way, if you were Andre, how would you feel about Stefano?"

"Andre hated him, he wanted everything that…belonged to him," Tony finished in a slow, brooding tone that reflected an entirely new avenue of treacherous possibilities racing through his consciousness and Eugene sank back into his seat.

"Exactly."

Here was a scenario Tony hadn't even suspected, which now that he thought about it, seemed incredibly foolish. Of course Andre would've been paying attention, waiting for the right time to strike, to take what he felt rightfully belonged to him. The man didn't lack audacity or enough arrogance to think he could pull it off…except this didn't quite fit the bill either...unless his plans were interrupted before he was able to follow through. "Stefano being incapacitated would provide Andre an opportunity yes, but why didn't he use it to rid himself of the people he hated the most?"

"I think in your case he did, or tried," said Gene, holding Tony's gaze.

The expression on Tony's face froze when he realized what Gene meant. "The blood disease?"

Eugene's head tilted sideways and he shrugged. "It would explain how your Dr. Rolf was able to find treatment for a disease that is still, to this day, incurable."

"But Stefano," Tony quickly pointed out, "Andre didn't even try to kill him."

"No, and he might have thought about it but I doubt somehow that he'd want to let the old bastard off that easily. He'd want him to suffer."

"Meaning?"

"Well, other than the history between all three of you, Andre lost his son," Eugene reminded him, "and for all we know, he blamed Stefano for that along with Shawn Brady and what better way to make him pay for such an outrage than forcing him to watch you waste away?"

Tony nearly snorted in disgust. "Stefano's interest in my condition had nothing to do with his affection for me, or lack there of," he stated emphatically. "As far as he was concerned I was a tool, nothing more."

Gently, Eugene shook his head. "I don't think so but that's a point we could argue all day, I suppose."

A baffled look of anxiety and suspicion stole across Tony's face as if Gene's comment had dredged up fears that lay only barely concealed beneath the façade he managed to keep up around everyone else. "He's bent on destroying me, Gene."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean he no longer cares about you and _that _was the point, in Andre's mind anyway."

He knew Gene was right about this but Tony didn't want to accept that Stefano still loved him. The man had ripped his life to shreds, manipulated him, used him to hurt nearly everyone he loved and yet there was that thread of emotion which clung no matter what he told himself, defying his countless attempts at exorcizing it permanently, like some kind of sickness he couldn't shake off. And the worst part of it was that if Gene knew him and his father well enough to recognize it existed, so did his cousin. "Damn him, damn both of them," Tony snarled violently, and he slammed the water bottle down on the table with force enough to splash what was left out the top. "What the hell do they want from me?"

There was no answer to this outburst and so Eugene wisely kept silent, waiting for Tony's temper to cool off which it always did once he had a chance to vent a bit. He didn't bury his anger thankfully, like some people Gene knew. It was perhaps the one thing that might keep Tony's sanity intact no matter what he learned about the past because after listening to Colin's recital earlier, Gene suspected the secrets that awaited both Tony and his brother might destroy whatever chance they had of a relationship.

He'd never understood why Stefano had kept John alive. It made no sense in light of the fact that John's memories could destroy him and his family. Why on earth hadn't Stefano just silenced him? It would have solved all of his problems, especially if he was serious about keeping Kristen and Tony together, not to mention the fact that it would have freed Marlena of whatever connection she shared with the man. So why? Why keep him around unless he served a purpose, and if that was the case, what was that purpose? Revenge on Daphne? Knowing Stefano, that was a possibility but it didn't ring true in Gene's mind. He couldn't help remembering that Stefano sent John back to take Roman's place and Stefano never made a move without a reason. There had to be a connection between John and the Bradys…

"What about John?"

Eugene's head snapped up at the sound of his thoughts being uttered aloud and encountered Tony's dark eyes staring back with inscrutable awareness, an expression Tony had perfected over the years so that it had a tendency to make people squirm but Gene only smiled to himself. He knew in large part it was a matter of self preservation but nothing kept that keen mind flustered for long. "What about him?"

"Why would Andre go to the trouble of framing him for murder?" asked Tony, narrowing his gaze. "What could he have against John?"

"You mean, what did Andre know that you don't?"

Tony swallowed uncomfortably and turned to toss the empty water bottle at the trash bin. "Yes, I suppose that's the key," he said, his eyes darting to the doorway of Colin's now vacant prison and wondered briefly if he truly wanted to learn whatever miserable secret remained lurking in the past. Not that Andre needed an excuse to go on a rampage but what Eugene was suggesting about the operation carried out in Arimed seemed to require far more patience than his cousin had ever shown in the past and a degree of intensity he thought Andre lacked altogether, and that made Tony question once again his father's aim in all of this. He'd asked that Colin be delivered to him but he'd also made a point of telling Tony it was because of Alexandra. So…did Stefano mean to take his revenge on Andre through Colin?

In his mind Tony heard the desperation in Colin's voice, explaining that it was Rolf who had instructed him to arrange a release for Larry Welsh. Despite his own feelings, Tony knew that order hadn't come from Stefano. He'd done things that cost Alexandra dearly but he'd never deliberately set her up to go to prison and Tony sincerely doubted that Welsh had done so on his own, which didn't leave too many other suspects with a desire to push Alexandra out of the way. "What if," he paused and looked at Gene, "Andre is alive?"

To Tony's surprise, Gene didn't even blink at the suggestion. "I'm afraid that seems more and more likely, given the circumstances."

"Yes," Tony agreed, "except that if you're right about the events that took place at Peter's wedding, he sure as hell isn't working for Stefano."

"I don't believe so," said Eugene slowly, "no."

"So, we're in the middle of a war."

The faint humming of the machines in the room took over again as they stared at each other. Neither man needed a reminder of their last go around in this situation, stuck on an island in the Bermuda Triangle after the plane they'd chartered was hijacked by Andre. It had cost Tony his mother and almost his life. And something told him he'd be lucky to get out so easily this time.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Place: Montreal

Time: January 2003, same afternoon

Tony pushed open the heavy oak door to the room he and Anna were sharing and nearly stepped on the blouse she'd worn earlier. It lay sprawled in a heap and not a foot away he spotted one of her heels, followed by a silk stocking draped across the bedspread. His eyes continued along the rest of the trail she'd strewn, leading in the direction of the bathroom door, cracked open an inch or so. Wispy curls of vapor hovered around the edge of it and now that he was paying attention, he heard water running in the shower and he grinned. The woman had an unerring knack. Whatever her other numerous faults, she knew precisely the recipe to coax him out of a sour mood.

Hastily he threaded his way between the clutter, catching his foot and tripping only once in the process of kicking his shoes off and collected the towel she'd left hanging on the door as he stepped inside. There was no shower curtain, or sliding doors. Instead, two massive walls of glass stood offset, one positioned in front of the other, devising an open entry way and though both walls were pretty steamed up on the inside, Tony could still see his wife's trim, incredibly alluring body arched against the back of the stall, her head resting over so that her glance was directed away from him and towards the opposite end of the shower. There, behind yet another thick piece of glass, an elaborate planetarium blazed with color. Someone had spent a small fortune creating that space he was certain, someone with an eye for exotic orchids, and beauty.

Not that he'd paid it much attention. It was difficult focusing on anything else besides Anna when she was in the same room and their time spent in the shower more than kept his mind occupied. Tossing the towel aside onto a diminutive and luxuriously upholstered loveseat residing in front of the dressing room table, he yanked on his sweater, and pulling it clear of his head began to unbuckle his belt. Within seconds he could feel her watching. Bringing his face level with the shower, he found her eyes glued to him, taking in every movement. For a brief sliver of a moment, she acknowledged his gaze but her attention wandered back down as he stepped out of his jeans, and with a leisurely grace any cat would admire, her smile grew from the impish curve of her lips to a smirk.

She never, ever tired of seeing him undress. His technique was flawless and he handled it with such an intuitive elegance as though it were completely natural. For all she knew it was but that didn't really matter. The way it sparked off a hammering in her pulse and set her entire body tingling with anticipation provided all the purpose she required. That and the sight of him naked. Slowly her eyes perused the entire length of his body and a silent chuckle made her mouth twitch, remembering how she'd teased him once, telling him that he'd make the perfect model for a greek god…with the temper to match, and he'd retorted in kind and called her Hera.

"You might have at least chosen Diana or Aphrodite," she'd complained but he'd only grinned back at her without the slightest hint of remorse.

"Not even Aphrodite is as devious as you my dear."

"You…you snot," she sputtered, lifting her hand to take a smack at him but he'd easily caught it first and hauled it around her back, kissing her soundly, though not a second longer than it took to get a response, at which point he'd stopped to wink at her. "You are such a devil and one of these days," she warned, "you are going to meet a woman that doesn't work on, you know," but he'd only grinned and kissed her again, more persistently this time, and then proceeded to tickle her into submission. Knowing her warning had come true didn't bring her any satisfaction now. Kristen had been such an utter fool to throw Tony away as though he was less worthy or deserving than John simply because he'd lied to her. Of course the woman hadn't given a damn that he'd forgiven _her_ lies, _her_ betrayal. She'd refused to even consider doing the same for him, the little witch, Anna fumed silently.

"What's the matter?" he asked, bringing her back to the present with the touch of his lips.

She shook her head and dragged his body closer until she could feel ever inch of him pressed up against her. Warm, wet flesh. Hands delved into her hair and slid around her back, and she pushed forward, feeling his fingers trace a path down her spine.

"Anna, what's wrong?"

There was the old hint of impatience alongside his concern for her that for some reason didn't annoy her the way it used to. She recalled those days too, when simply the inflection in his voice could send her into a flaming temper, landing the two of them in the middle of some silly, horrendous quarrel they managed to milk for weeks, or even longer. Both of them were far too stubborn and she didn't kid herself thinking either of them had changed all that much, but this time she knew it was different. It wasn't pride or trust that had torn them apart in the end, but fate.

And how could she fight that? She'd never been any good or given a damn about being patient. The role of supportive wife just wasn't her forte. She'd never _be_ Marlena. But she believed in him, she needed no more proof or space to convince herself of the truth. Those first few days in Paris had been all she required because he'd admitted even his darkest, most agonizing fears. He'd come to her. He'd chosen and he'd made a commitment and no one knew better than she did the lengths he'd go to in order to live up to that decision.

And, if after all the years of hurt she'd put him through he could love her enough to do that, how difficult could it be to learn to trust fate just a little and have faith. Even Stefano had his limits.

"Nothing's wrong…well, other…other than the fact that you're going away tomorrow, so enough with the questions already. Kiss me."

It was such a charmingly petulant demand he had to bite his lip to dampen the familiar itch to wrap her in his arms and shake her, all at the same time.

"Yes, well…" His lips moved so close she could taste his breath as he murmured smoothly, "since you're the one giving the orders tonight…" Laughter lay suppressed in his voice, bending his accent so that she could detect the slightest trace of his youth in Australia. "…how exactly would you prefer that madam? A gentle peck?" The touch of his mouth, no more than a caress brushed fleetingly, allowing her only the tantalizing flavor of him before it vanished. "Or perhaps a more…indirect route..." and hot breath hazed her skin so that she was hardly aware of the moan escaping her lips as he flicked his burning tongue along the edge of her jaw and let it dance lazily beneath her ear, nibbling and sucking slowly at her skin before finally reaching her ear lobe. He played with that too, giving it a tug with his teeth before slipping the wet tip of his tongue inside her ear. By now every nerve in her body was taut, and she yearned for the touch of his fingers, any of which could arouse the most delectably maddening sensations. Unlocking her hands from behind his head, she eased one of them over his shoulder and raked her nails lightly across his chest to reach down but he must have guessed her intention because he quickly pinned her arm to the shower wall with his shoulder and moved to grab her other wrist and swung it above her head.

"If you do that, and this isn't going to last very long," came his breathless voice in her ear, the humor beneath the words even more pronounced than a moment before. "All in good time, love."

"Tony…" Her breath caught in her throat as his free hand molded itself to her breast and he let his thumb glide across the top of it, teasing it gently.

"Yes?" The drawl in his voice was only a muffled sound against her neck.

She swallowed. "I swear you love torturing me."

His mouth appeared once more just a fraction of an inch away from her own. "Not nearly as much you enjoy it, my dear."

And though it was true, he had to admit that the fact of the matter was, they were both insatiable. Her body captivated him almost as much as that convoluted and adorably illogical mind and no amount of time together or experience dulled the fascination. It was simply impossible to be bored in her company. "You are…"

"Irresistible?" she whispered as her eyes gazed back at him, daring him seductively.

"Quite naughty is more like it," and his lips prevented any response to this observation, devouring her now with a hunger she responded to without hesitation. "…and delicious…my god woman, that mouth is…"

"All yours," she laughed and the delight softening her face was contagious.

Thick, silky lashes so black they cast a shadow across his cheek fluttered tentatively a moment and then glided upwards to reveal a look stripped of any pretence except a fierce desire and joy and his eyes glowed with the intensity of it. "No wonder I went mad without you."

Biting her lip, she tried but couldn't help the giggle that slipped out. "I thought it was being around me that drove you mad," and the quip brought a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Occasionally. Better mad together, eh?"

"And who said anything about…" but she got no further. The shreds of her indignation bled away beneath the sweet taste of him, lips so enticing she'd never been able to resist, and oh, the things he could do with his tongue…she felt herself flush with pleasure at just the thought. And he was never in a hurry.

He knew her mouth as intimately as he knew the rest of her and used it to drive her straight to the edge of begging.

By the time he pulled away, she was breathless but still she moaned in disappointment.

"I take it," he said, the huskiness in his voice not quite masking his amusement, "that means I probably couldn't talk you into washing my back…"

"You don't bring that mouth back over here, I'm going to wash _it_ out with soap."

Throwing his head back, his laughter echoed through the layer of steamy mist floating above their heads. "You'd try it too, wouldn't you?"

"For being such a brat, I ought to…" she squirmed against the wall, still caught securely behind his weight.

"Yes?"

"I'm…" She flashed a determined look at him. "…okay, I'm thinking about it."

"I'll bet you are," he chuckled, his eyes running appreciatively along the curves of her body. "And no doubt, you'd drive me right to the point of enjoying it…"

"Either that or you'd want to kill me."

He shook his head. "I'm getting to old for that, my dear."

"Oh yeah, fat chance I have of _that_ ever happening."

"What, no sympathy for your old man?" which simply bought him a snort of laughter and a knowing glare. "I see, well my darling I'm worn out after this morning, thanks to you and," he sighed, "Colin's tales, so how about we call down to the kitchen for something a little less…" he flashed her a mischievous look, "…strenuous."

"That could mean either something to paddle me with or whipped cream…unless of course you're in the mood for chocolate."

"How about both," he suggested with a grin.

She stared back him with her eyes gleaming, at the possibilities he hoped, though he had not the faintest idea what was really going on behind them. "Does that include the paddle?"

"I'll leave that up to you," he said, reaching for her lips once more but she pulled away and shook her head.

"And what if Shane's still down there? Knowing him, he'd get quite a kick out of delivering it personally."

Tony shrugged. He was tempted to tell her that it was already too late to salvage even the slightest indication of propriety in Shane's eyes, especially after what the poor man had gotten a glimpse of in the kitchen the night they'd all arrived. "Probably, but so what?"

"And then he'd sit through dinner with a grin all over his face, him and Eugene."

Dropping a kiss on her nose, he said, "Who says we're going down to dinner?"

Anna's eyes popped wide in surprise, though it took only the space of a minute for a look of perplexed suspicion to replace it. "I figured you'd insist. That you'd want to sit through the entire dreadful production just to keep the peace considering Colin would be there and…well," her voice faltered, meeting his steady gaze, "you know what I mean."

"Colin isn't a child," he reminded her, "and since he's managed to keep his neck intact this long around Stefano and the Bradys, I hardly he needs any assistance with Shane and if I'm wrong, Gene will be there to take care of it."

"Either that or we'll just hear the furniture being smashed into little pieces downstairs."

Tony blinked, taken aback by her sudden concern. "You don't approve?"

"Of Colin? No, it's not that…" She bit her tongue and looked away uncomfortably. It wasn't like they couldn't talk about Andre but she'd certainly avoided the subject as often as possible and there were places that she made sure never to mention his name. "I'm just a little worried. I mean, what if Shawn and Stefano aren't the only ones who suspect you had something to do with Colin's disappearance?"

"Ahhh," and Tony sighed. "I see. Eugene has been talking to you too."

"Yes."

"Darling look, I don't want you to…"

But before he got any further, she pulled her hand from his grasp which had slackened a bit and slipped it over his mouth. "Just listen for a minute, okay?" and to her amazement he didn't argue. In fact, he even relaxed, leaning against the wall and waited with an air of intent curiosity. "You and Shane set this all up so that Stefano would believe that Larry's responsible for taking care of Colin, but if Gene's suspicions are correct and Larry is working for…"

They stared at each other for an awkward moment. "…Colin's father…" Tony murmured, his eyes darkening to grim fathomless pools and she could almost see the memories surfacing.

Nodding, she rushed on. "They're both going to assume it was you. I mean, they both _know_ it wasn't Larry and unless you can somehow leave evidence that would point at someone else, you're the one that looks guilty."

"Someone else…like who?"

"Well, if you're going to make Stefano think it was Larry; why not make Larry think it was Stefano?"

A smirk appeared and he gave her shoulder a playful and reassuring squeeze. "That would be amusing but a tad…"

"Obvious, yes I know but we can't let him go along believing it was you."

"No you're right…although…" His eyes lit up and his grin widened devilishly and without any warning, he kissed her, his tongue bursting into her mouth with an intensity that lingered for only a moment . "Oh, you are brilliant, my dear."

"What, Stefano?"

"No, no, no. The Bradys."

But she just shook her head in confusion. "I'm afraid…"

"Being stuck in the middle of all this, don't you see? It's simple," he said, cupping her face between his hands so that she would focus on what he was saying. "We just play each side off against the other," and he waited as the pieces clicked together in the back of her eyes.

"You don't mean Bo."

"He'd make the most sense, considering Colin's plans and what Larry has been up to."

She didn't appear all that pleased with the idea at first but then she realized what he was getting at. "You think that making him look guilty for Colin's murder might just motivate Shawn to talk."

Tony's smile beamed and he drew her closer, planting another brief but gratifying kiss, and hugged her tightly. Thankfully, she felt at least a portion of her anxiety melt away in his arms but the seed Eugene had planted earlier remained, murmuring its warning over and over in the back of her mind. Andre was out there…

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	19. Chapter Eighteen

Place: Farmhouse outside of Salem

Time: earlier that day

Despite a few hairy road conditions, and weather that made her think rather fondly of the fireplace in Roman's living room, Kate Roberts had arrived at the appointed place. She was even on time which would please the old reprobate. Of course, in all probability he'd take credit for that due to the demise of Mr. Murphy. Her summons showing up only the day before the man's 'murder' was too much of a coincidence, a concept she pretty much shunned anyway come to think of it. The unexpected rarely happened in Stefano's world. He mapped out even the smallest details with a precision that was truly awe inspiring at times, though admittedly she found the process of it tedious whenever he'd check up on her as he was doing now.

Irritably, she jerked the key from the ignition and began searching her ring for the one that had arrived with the note that she'd long since destroyed. If Stefano didn't trust her by now, didn't know her more than capable of handling her end of the operation with both John and Roman perhaps it was time she reminded him of the reason why he needed her in the first place, and how Rolf, the arrogant son of a bitch had failed him miserably, with not only Roman but John and Tony, and Lexie as well. And the twins...she shook her head in disgust at the memory of how the eminent doctor had managed to loose track of them so that they'd ended up sequestered by the ISA.

And on top of all his other blunders, he'd managed to piss off Tony _and_ make him suspicious.

Perhaps that was the reason for this meeting…damage control.

Fingering the house key, Kate glanced out the window at the stark landscape surrounding the car. A water-stained sky hung over the fields. Only lone patches of snow remained on the ground so that everything for miles around was one shade or another of dull brown, some darker, some lighter but without exception depressing and nondescript. Not a speck of green anywhere, no pine trees or decorations. There were few trees of any variety except near the house and their bare branches did nothing to enhance its appearance. In the summer with a limitless and purely azure horizon stretching out in every direction it might be picturesque, flowers trailing from wire baskets beneath the windows and hanging on the porch but on such a day as this, the washed out boards instilled a sense of tawdry gloom that she did not appreciate.

As usual, Stefano's aims were quite transparent, and forcing her to meet in such a hovel was his way of reminding her just how much of her life she owed to him and what would be left of it if she failed, which as always, only served to strengthen her determination.

She grabbed her purse and locked it into the glove compartment, and steeling herself against the artic wind, threw open the door. There was still plenty of the ice on the blacktop. Gingerly, she made her way around the SUV and up the walk until she reached the porch, bare except for a decrepit rocking chair and a couple of sash windows, tightly shuttered as though the occupants had escaped for the winter to a warmer tropical climate. Just the idea of Bermuda sounded heavenly but she shoved it out of her mind and unlocked the front door. At least, the place didn't feel or smell as deserted as it appeared. The heater was on. And someone had only just finished breakfast she noticed as she turned to close the door. Their empty plate sat on the dining room table, a napkin tossed next to it and quickly her eyes darted towards the kitchen.

"Stefano?"

She pulled off her heavy fur coat and throwing it across the chair where he'd just been sitting, made her way in the direction of that tantalizing smell she'd encountered as soon as she'd stepped inside. The man might put up with crude surroundings but life minus his small rituals was not to be tolerated and at this time in the morning, the ritual he insisted upon was his coffee. And by no means did it resemble Mrs. Brady's version. Nothing on earth tasted as divine in the morning as Italian coffee and Stefano's particular concoction was quite distinctive. He'd even left a cup out on the counter for her. That could mean only one thing, he was busy and expected her to wait patiently until he arrived back downstairs.

Kate certainly had plenty of experience doing that but being dragged all the way out to the middle of nowhere had pissed her off royally, especially when he'd failed to give a reason or explain himself. And if all of this was just a matter of soothing his nerves because of what happened to Lexie, because like everyone else, she'd been fooled by Shane and Bo's little scheme and let him believe for even a couple of days that his daughter was truly dead, Kate's ability to contain her temper would get a real workout.

With a sigh, she slowly brought the steaming cup to her lips, and closing her eyes, inhaled its fragrant aroma. After a careful sip, she reminded herself that there were _other_ possibilities. Perhaps he had news of his own, hopefully about Billie, and how her daughter had fallen into Welsh's snare. Though admitting it at the moment set her on edge, he'd always been considerate of her feelings when it came to her children and treated her with far more dignity than most of the people in her life, never like a servant and to a large degree, quite a bit better than he'd treated his own children but then he knew her to be entirely trustworthy. She'd given him no reason to ever suspect her over the years and yet despite this, he still refused to open up to her and share what he was up to…exactly.

Oh, she knew about the Bradys but why did he insist on treating his son this way?

Stefano behaved as though the sight of Tony going after John would give him nothing but satisfaction, even joy. He'd done everything in his power to push Tony in that direction; leaked information, made him believe his wife was dead and made certain he was aware of exactly how John had treated Kristen after Arimed; he'd revealed everything _except_ their past in Ireland. And Eleanor. That she didn't understand if the object was to take down John…and if that wasn't the objective, what on earth was he doing?

Into this reverie broke the sound of a chair scratching the floor upstairs. He'd be down soon. With some difficulty, she shrugged off her unease and irritability as it would only create tension between them. That wouldn't get her anywhere, so catching another quick sip, she swept out of the kitchen doing a balancing act with her cup and picked her way between the table and buffet in the cramped space that served as a dining room to arrive at the set of doors just in front of the stairway. Without even a second thought, she gave one of the doors a push. It slid noiselessly into the wall and she walked into the darkened space.

"Ah Kate, I'm delighted to see you haven't forgotten how to enjoy life in my absence."

The voice, familiar with just the slighted twinge of a cockney accent stopped her dead in her tracks, twinges of paralyzing shock threading their way into every limb side by side with instantaneous denial. It was a trick, it had to be, or some kind of test or…but she didn't get past that thought because he switched on a lamp.

And her cup went crashing to the floor. "This…this can't be happening because you…you're dead…you're just an apparition," she said, her tone dropping to a whisper, "you're _not_ real."

"Oh?"

He was coming towards her and without thinking she stepped back, clawing at the door to find that someone had shut it behind her and locked it. Desperately she kicked at it but her heel only scratched the finish before steely fingers gripped her arm and swung her around. Cold black eyes, ones that she'd seen radiate their appreciation and desire and melt when she'd entered a room bored into her now without even an ounce of feeling and Kate, who was never afraid began to panic.

"Darling, please…you don't…"

"Now it's darling? How…" he paused and smiled, his tongue slipping along the edge of his teeth. "…devoted."

Her reply stuck in her throat.

"And speechless. Now that is definitely a first. I've never known you to be at a loss for words, Kate…unless of course you don't _have_ an explanation."

That insinuation got her blood pumping with a vengeance. "Don't you dare try and…"

"What?" he bit back, his face now only inches away from her own as he leaned his elbow against the door. "Expect that when a woman says that she loves me and wants to marry me that she'd be loyal? That she might just question Stefano's motives in wanting to come between us unless of course his fairytale was the merely the excuse you'd been searching for to escape our little arrangement."

"No…it wasn't like that. He had proof."

"Well, naturally."

Kate's dark eyes blazed furiously. "I saw you, _with_ _her."_

The chuckle that nearly choked him didn't sound amused. "And you stuck around to make certain...to nail me to the wall for betraying you, eh?"

"I…couldn't." Somehow she managed to wring the words from behind clenched teeth and immediately the images materialized, ones she'd buried years ago but they hit her now with a clarity as ghastly and unbearable as the day she'd stood in front of that monitor and let him rip her soul apart piece by piece while he caressed Marlena's face and body... "You never loved me. I doubt you even know what the word means," she sneered up at him.

"Unlike you," he replied, a soft perilous edge grating in his voice. "who would just as soon sell it to the highest bidder."

White hot rage seared through her mind, consuming what little check she'd maintained over her emotions and the sound of her hand slapping his face rang in her ears and left a tiny trickle of blood on his cheek, oozing from a spot where she'd caught him with one of her nails. Loosing his grip on her arm, he wiped the blood away with his finger and stared at the result before his eyes traveled up to meet hers.

"Did I strike a nerve, Kate?"

Her breathing was uneven and her heart hammered in her chest but she glared back at him defiantly. "My relationship with Victor had absolutely nothing to do with his money."

"And we both know it had nothing to do with love either."

"How dare you presume to…"

"…remind you of what we shared?" he asked, cutting off her tirade as he backed her up against the door. He hadn't touched her but his presence was difficult to ignore. As always, his shirt revealed as much as it concealed so that she was acutely aware of the manner in which his body affected her and the scent of him that kindled reactions and memories she couldn't hide from. "Yes," he murmured next to her ear, "even Stefano couldn't destroy that."

It took all of her self control to keep her hands at her side and as his breath swept across her skin, her jaw clamped down, trying to stifle her senses until his lips almost touched hers and they were so close, it was maddening. "I didn't want to believe him, but…"

"But you did."

The faint taste of cigar smoke lingered in the air when he spoke. "What did you expect?" she asked, making an effort to concentrate on her anger. "The person in that bed, touching her was you."

"No." Despite the softness of his voice, there was an absolute finality to his denial.

"I _know_ what I saw."

"He was counting on that my dear and weren't you most obliging but the man you got an eyeful of in bed with Marlena was Cousin Tony," he informed her coldly, straightening up and folding his arms across his chest, "not me."


	20. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Place: Farmhouse outside of Salem

"Andre…" Kate's laughter expressed her utter disdain scathingly. "Clever, but hardly convincing since I happen to know that Tony was on a business trip at the time."

"Really? And did you escort him to his destination in person?"

"You know perfectly well that I didn't," she snapped impatiently and his mouth settled into a thin, bitter smile so reminiscent it took her back years to numerous quarrels they'd gotten into, typically whenever the subject of his uncle came up. Stefano's hold on both of them had always been a thorn in their relationship. Its mere existence infuriated him to no end and after all the two men had put each other through, Kate could certainly understand Andre's frustration but she'd never allowed it to influence her loyalties, and it was a resolution she'd stuck to, even with Stefano, telling him to butt out when he tried to warn her away from his worthless, pathetic excuse for a nephew as he put it.

Perhaps, knowing Stefano as she did, she ought to have been more suspicious when he grudgingly acquiesced, to the point of postponing his plans and even offering to play host at their wedding and the idea that he'd manipulated the situation provided her a ray of hope when he'd first broken the news to her about Andre but he had all the necessary answers ready and waiting; and they were incontrovertible.

How he'd purred with sympathy over Andre's betrayal, assuring her that he'd see to it personally her fiancé never bothered her again, and she'd been quite grateful.

"You know as well as I do that Tony had no idea that island existed," she reminded Andre now.

"Luck isn't even a part of your vocabulary, is it?"

"Frankly…" she sucked in a deep breath, "no, and I don't believe in coincidences either."

"Or fate?"

Despite the twisted, cynical curve of his smile, she sensed the pain lurking beneath his façade. But then Andre thrived on pain. He nursed it as though its absence would be the death of him and with very little difficulty she crushed the pang of guilt that nudged her conscious when she began to grasp it was all that remained. Once upon a time she'd been enticed by that moody, seductive gaze, and his distress. Their grief had forged a bond between them but that was all so long ago. Another lifetime. "What took place on that island was hardly fate."

"Something tells me that John won't find it in his heart to agree with you when he discovers the truth."

"And which _truth_ is it that he'll be learning?"

Andre's eyes narrowed. "The only one that matters as far as I'm concerned. Blaming me for what happened in Ireland was a mistake I'm not about to let him stop paying for…ever," he told her with a frightening determined look so like his cousin's it was eerie.

"So, you too want John to believe it was his brother who slept with Marlena."

The smile on his face leered at her. "My dear sweet Kate, if I'd taken the opportunity to know Marlena…" he paused, a gleam in his eyes devouring what lay beneath her sweater and slacks possessively, "with the thoroughness that Tony managed, do you honestly think I would have kept the fact to myself?"

For the first time, Kate felt spots of clammy pins and needles spring up along the back of her neck. "You didn't tell John in Arimed…"

"Bravo my dear. It's nice to see you finally waking up to the obvious," he nodded, the conversational tone in his voice in no way reflected in the rigid stance of his body or his face that regarded her now as though she were Stefano. "I didn't tell him because I didn't know anything about it."

Her gaze, meeting his for only a fleeting moment, was horrified.

And she thought she might be sick.

This is what she'd prayed for that night on the island. And unbidden came the memory of Stefano's benevolent but piercing eyes waiting for her as she'd spun away from the sight on the monitor. That bastard would do _anything _to get his way, ruin any life, rip apart and destroy the happiness he couldn't share. How _dare_ he use her this way, simply to further his own schemes, just as he'd used his nephew…

Up to now, she'd not permitted her mind to linger on the years she and Andre had spent together, full of moments that were still as raw as an open wound but now her mind drifted back to that first time she'd seen him arguing with Stefano about Tony. She'd recognized immediately what turned her on…after all, she had her pick of shrewd, debonair men to choose from so the spark that hit her when she witnessed their confrontation came as quite a shock. He had potential. Despite his history with Stefano, one that she'd heard in explicit detail, he held his own and refused to just lie down and let his uncle use him once again without getting what he wanted in return.

And damn, if he hadn't pulled it off in spite of everyone.

What a moment that would have been, to see Stefano's face when learned the truth about Arimed but this drew a sigh out of Kate. Once the knowledge that Andre had beaten the odds would have made her proud and she had to admit that to some degree it did, considering what she knew now about Stefano, but it wasn't a victory she could share with him. She hadn't been strong enough or believed in him enough to question what was right in front of her face so she hadn't the right to feel anything now.

Except perhaps worried.

Because here was a man whose only companion in life was the score he wished to settle.

When she raised her eyes, Andre was still standing only a few feet away, waiting for her response presumably. Not an apology of course. He knew better than to expect one out of her and if she had the nerve, he'd no doubt fling it right back in her face. "Well, you…" she pursed her lips together nervously. "Why tell me now?"

He didn't react at all for several long, tenuous moments, forcing her to hold his gaze without breaking down and slowly, so that she thought she was imagining it at first, a mischievous grin materialized. "What a waste, you and I…" Fingers brushed her cheek gently, and then wandered, as if with a life of their own, to her mouth. The tip of one finger followed another, tracing her upper lip. "No one ever understood me the way you did," he murmured.

Just the bare touch of his skin against hers made her nerves tingle, arousing memories that were damned inconvenient.

"When you finally weaseled your way inside my soul, I admit you thoroughly amazed me. The discovery you made didn't frighten you in the least, did it?"

All Kate could manage was a brief shake of her head. He could still get to her with that smooth accent and those eyes that dared her to follow him even though she knew he had the black soul of a pirate. How did he do that?

"You convinced me you know, so that I believed we had a chance, that it could work."

"No, you convinced yourself," she whispered.

With speed she'd forgotten he possessed, he grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck and yanked it back viciously. "You console yourself with whatever lies you find necessary," he hissed from just inches away. She'd never seen him this close to the edge of loosing control, or found his rage concentrated to such a degree on her. Instincts switched on automatically but his reflexes were too quick and he slammed her body against the door, using the full weight of his body to immobilize everything except her arms which were not strong enough to push him away or reach his face. "I'm finished listening to people whose only desire seems to be their need to rewrite my history for their own benefit."

"Andre…"

Stretching her head back even further, he kissed her. It wasn't as rough as she might have expected but angry, and a bit frightened, she tore her mouth away and spit at him. Instead of producing the effect she was after, he laughed. "You of all people ought to know better than to think I'd fall for that," and this time he took her without holding back, overwhelming her senses with an ease that mocked at her resistance. She hated herself but couldn't stop her body from reacting and after only a few more moments, didn't care, didn't want anything other than the taste of him, and the magic of his tongue which never simply explored its target but demanded her full attention and rewarded her with the most exquisite pleasure. She craved his touch as much as she ever had before. Not even the voice in her head telling her that he was only doing this to prove a point made a difference, until he pulled away as if right on cue.

"I didn't _need_ to convince myself of anything," he said, a drawl to his voice and with one more pointed stare, he walked away.

An awkward silence took over the room. Outside the wind had picked up and she could hear scratching noises, probably the tree branches swaying outside the windows and poking the shutters. Kate didn't move except to shut her eyes. After the island, she'd vowed never to let another man inside. The hole he left had nearly driven her mad though, until she'd met Andre, baring her soul hadn't been an option. She flatly refused to hand over control of her emotions to someone else, especially a man. And he'd understood. Too well in fact because no amount of rejection worked with him and the wily ingenious manner he used to ease his way past her defenses amused her, like a game it seemed until the day arrived when she realized walking away from him would leave her in a gray world devoid of joy and possibilities.

So many possibilities...and she'd let Stefano destroy every last one of them. Knowing Andre as she did, she couldn't imagine he'd brought her here merely to drop this bomb on her. If he'd learned what happened years ago, perhaps, but not now. It was way too late for them so he had to want something.

And she had rather a bad feeling she could guess what it was too.

"I won't help you destroy Stefano."

Andre had taken a seat in an overstuffed chair near the empty fireplace and a sarcastic chuckle slipped out the side of his mouth. "Not even after everything I've said, eh?"

"Don't give me that line. You've wanted his head since long before I met you, and I'm not getting in the middle of that."

"You already are in the middle of it, love," he said, eyeing her coldly, "whether you like it or not. "

"I won't betray him."

"Too bad he didn't show you the same consideration."

Frustrated, she looked away and wondered how many times they'd had this same stupid argument, over and over again. Maybe they would have ended up here anyway, even without Stefano's interference she thought miserably but it no longer mattered and she wasn't about to throw away what was left and destroy her children's lives just because Andre felt she owed it to him. "I don't see why you'd even need my help since you've managed to get what you wanted all on your own."

"Not exactly but I didn't arrange for this amusing little rendezvous because of old animosities."

"Then, I'm afraid I'm confused."

Andre leaned forward and gazed intently at her, searching, though for what she hadn't a clue. Waiting for her to hazard a guess perhaps. But then, without warning, he shrugged and got up to pour himself a drink from a tray near the window. He made one for her as well which he offered and when she nodded, set it on table in front of where he'd been sitting. There was a matching chair across the table but Kate wasn't about to allow herself to relax once more around this man. She collected the glass and stood so that the chair remained between them. Andre didn't sit back down either. Instead he propped his shoulder against the stone mantle and swirled the scotch in his glass, watching it. "He has my son, Kate."

She didn't react immediately and had to repeat his words over in her head until she realized what he meant and her eyes clouded over with concern. "Oh Andre, I know that you've never accepted his death, that you…"

"Colin Murphy."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Kate stared at him, not quite sure what to think of his mental state. "That's not…"

"…possible? What, you think Shawn Brady couldn't or wouldn't pull off such a scam? My dear, don't let that blarney masquerading as Irish charm fool you, he's just as capable of trickery, or slight of hand in this case as Stefano. You know as well as I do that no body was ever found."

"Yes I know, but that's most likely because they stopped looking."

"It doesn't make any difference. I have proof, _and_ the boy knows as well."

Kate's laughter was biting. "That boy is anything but a child and certainly not innocent in whatever the hell has been going on. You know he's mixed up with Stefano."

A thoroughly self-satisfied smile lightened up Andre's face. "Precisely."

"But don't you see, this is so typical of what your uncle would do, the perfect opportunity to distort reality and make it look as though Shawn Brady lied all these years, that he tried to cover it up. If Stefano knows you're alive, he'll do anything it takes to bring you out in the open."

"Well I must say, your concern is…" both eyebrows shot up, "touching."

She swallowed the snide comment that instantly sprang to mind. Advice from others never sat well with Andre and she doubted that he'd taken the risk and exposed himself because he was interested in what she thought of all this. He had only one use for her now. "Forget it," she said, eyeing him coolly in return. "I have absolutely no intention of helping you go after your uncle."

"I see." And the smile that slid up both sides of his face created an unpleasant chill that raced down her spine. "In that case, I guess your children's welfare isn't quite as important as you've made it out to be."

"You touch any one of my children and we both know what Stefano will do to you."

"As I understand it, Stefano is having some difficulty protecting his own children at the moment."

The comment didn't sink in immediately and Kate opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell but then the implication broke in a blinding flash and she had to stifle the urge to hurl her glass at him. "Larry Welsh." The name escaped her lips almost as though she considered it a curse. "My god, you arranged that, didn't you? All of it, especially framing Lexie for Hope's kidnapping and then her murder."

Andre snorted in disgust. "If I didn't know better Kate, I'd say you borrowed yourself a set of morals since you arrived in Salem."

She wanted to do more than just slap him this time and his comment was ignored as she imagined the pleasure she'd take in raking her nails across his face. "You bastard, you…you ordered him to involve Billie in this mess and use her, so you could what? Pay me back? He was supposed to kill her, wasn't he?"

"No."

They glared at one another and Kate's dark eyes flashed, murderous intensity simmering very near the surface.

"He had no orders from me to shoot her but then Donovan showed up. Larry…I don't know," he waved the glass, "panicked I guess."

"Billie almost died." Kate accused him and she could barely contain her emotions, especially her rage but even that didn't quite obscure the gaping pit of emptiness in her heart, one that she'd endured for too many years and without even realizing it, a single tear slipped down her cheek. As she stared at him, something in the back of his eyes wavered. Compassion perhaps, or memories? She couldn't be sure except that it was there and then it vanished so that his face became set again with a merciless glare he'd reserved for Stefano in the past.

"I'm sorry but you made your choice Kate."

"And if I hadn't, if Stefano hadn't interfered, would things really be any different?"

He considered her question carefully before he said, "You'd be my wife."

"And of course you think that means I would have chosen you."

"Yes," he replied with no hesitation and the confidence in his voice irritated her even more than what he'd said because she couldn't honestly tell herself that he was wrong. The chance that he'd turn on Stefano had existed right from the start except that she'd been determined to find a way to resolve their differences, at least to the extent that Stefano would see that Andre deserved to be his heir. With time and patience, she'd believed she could bring the two men around but what if she'd been wrong. After marrying him, could she have walked away because Stefano expected her to? She found herself staring down at the drink she hadn't tasted yet, wishing that she'd given herself the chance to find out instead of having to spend whatever time she had left wondering. A pointless exercise she knew but inevitable now. Looking up, she found him eyeing her curiously.

"Please Kate, all I want is my son back."

"Back? He doesn't know you exist."

"Stefano will…" he took a deep breath, "torture him. That's the only purpose he has in wanting him, so he can hurt me."

"You mean the way you tortured his son."

Andre snorted. "Pity for Tony, well, that's new."

"The person who suffered the most was Stefano and you…that's precisely what you planned, what you've dreamt of all these years."

"Yes, you're absolutely right about that and boy, did I have a bloody long time to dream about it too, all the while I believed my son was dead. When the hell did Stefano ever give a damn about my children?" he snarled at her, and pounded his fist into the wall. "Tony's children, now that was always a different story." He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head forward momentarily but then pushed himself away and sat back down in the chair. Even then, it took seconds before he'd composed himself enough to speak. "I have a proposition."

"I already told you that I won't…"

But he slammed his hand down on the table with enough force cut her off. "Just shut up and listen Kate. You're going to deliver a message for me, an offer, shall we say."

With a glare and a stiff nod, she waited for him to continue.

"If Stefano frees Colin, then I will stop what I am doing to Tony."

Although it took quite an effort, she managed to keep her surprise in check. "Doing?"

"You didn't imagine I allowed him to come out of the coma without having a reason, did you?"

Kate's mind skipped back to the last couple of times she'd seen Tony, only days ago and he'd seemed fine, in perfect health though the rumors about his first night in Salem had made the rounds and she knew he'd been admitted the hospital only the next day. "And you expect me to believe that you're the one responsible for keeping him in the coma."

Andre's smile was so thin, it was practically nonexistent.

"And now?" she asked, certain that whatever was coming would be something she'd never willingly choose to tell Stefano.

"I think it is time Tony remembered _all_ of his past."

Kate's hand flew to her mouth and she realized it was shaking but she couldn't make it stop. His reasons for doing such a thing…she knew why, but still… "Dear god Andre, please, if you want him to find out tell him but don't…" She couldn't keep her voice from trembling so that she could say the rest out loud and spun away, barely keeping hold of the glass in her other hand. Here was a truth she'd never wish on anyone because she'd experienced its hell firsthand and even Andre's love hadn't masked the horror entirely. No matter what she did it remained just out of reach so that she couldn't smother it or run from it until out of nowhere a miracle restored everything to her but no miracle would be waiting for Tony. She'd spent too many nights listening to Andre's nightmares not to be utterly certain of that.


	21. Chapter Twenty

Place: Montreal

Time: later that night

Tony paused once he stepped onto the landing midway down the staircase. A door leading into the library stood ajar and shadows emanating from the firelight within reflected across the mirrored surface of the paneling in the hallway below him. It was late, long past midnight so he'd expected to have the entire bottom floor to himself though not necessarily looking forward to it. Sitting alone as he nursed a scotch and soda would do little to dispel the remnants of his dream. He'd tried that often enough. And almost any form of companionship would have its appeal right now, even that of his newest relation, though neither Colin nor Shane would be his first choice considering the events of the previous day and so he breathed a thankful sigh upon reaching the doorway.

"When I saw the light, I thought perhaps I'd misjudged Colin's ability to behave himself in polite company."

From all appearances, Gene seemed to have anticipated his arrival and he didn't even raise his head at the sound of Tony's voice. "Were you expecting him to hurl his food or maybe a few utensils across the table?" he asked from his seat in front of the fire where he lounged, his long legs stretched out over the elegant Oriental rug so that his toes rested a matter of inches from the screen.

"Something like that." Tony had located the bar and already had a glass in hand. "Anna figured there was a real possibility we'd have to replace furniture."

And Gene laughed. "No, you're safe enough in that department."

There was no amusement in his tone and indeed he came across sounding preoccupied. "But?"

A pause followed Tony's query and he could tell Gene was weighing the possibilities with a great deal of caution, as though he anticipated traversing a minefield.

"He's ah…well, I suppose curious would be the term, after yesterday's charming little family discussion."

"Curious…what about?" Tony asked, making an effort to keep his irritation under control as he searched behind the bar in vain for a bucket of ice.

"You father."

The hell with the ice, he thought and reached for his drink as he turned slowly around to face Gene. "Tell me he didn't put it that way."

"Not exactly…but he is clever, " Gene reminded him, eyeing Tony and sporting a small quirk of a smile, "so he's put two and two together and come up with the assumption that John's father is…was …the gardener."

Not a tremendous leap under the circumstances Tony thought, stewing silently and cursed himself for allowing his emotions to get the better of him at the time because only his reaction would have pointed Colin in _that_ direction. And his frustration must have been evident.

"You could just tell him," Gene pointed out with a shrug of his shoulder, causing Tony to nearly choke on his scotch.

"No." It erupted with a forcefulness he hadn't intended, and quickly he tried to cover it up with laughter that was equally forced. "I mean, I'd be breaking any number of old, time honored family traditions."

"Such as?" asked Gene, a vein of sarcasm slipping through his normally good-natured and tolerant humor.

"Take your pick." Tony's smile sparkled devilishly but an uncomfortable expression accentuated the dark circles beneath his eyes and he swiftly turned away from his friend's gaze, though he could still feel it as he strode to the fireplace. Leaning his arm against the mantle, he rested his head and stared down into the flames.

"I understand your reservations," came Gene's voice from behind him, "but if you'd learned he was any other DiMera, say Renee's son for instance, would you feel the same way?"

Tony shut his eyes in an effort to block out the images still vivid from his nightmares. "Could you?"

Silence descended, except for a hissing and fly of sparks as a log collapsed into a bed of glowing embers, and then, "He's _not_ his father."

"No," Tony agreed slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the fire. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"I am taking him home with me, back to Haiti…and Calliope, so I'd guess that would be a yes."

"I see."

The chair where Gene sat was placed at just enough of an angle so that he had a partial view of Tony's profile, bathed in amber light and shadow but inscrutable, distant even, as though he were determined to shut out all the pain and the memories this odd state of affairs had driven to the surface but Gene knew better. No matter how badly Tony wanted this mess to disappear, he was far too stubborn to simply walk away. One of the few traits he and Stefano shared, Gene thought as he watched him straighten up and take a swallow of his drink. Neither man could let go. And Tony…he'd face a bitter end before admitting defeat. There had to be a way to the other side of all the hatred and revenge and endless betrayals, for his children if no one else.

"In that case," began Tony, "I should probably share my…doubts…" He hesitated. "Or suppositions."

"About who?" asked Gene with a frown. "Colin?"

Tony shook his head. "No, they involve my father."

Confusion mixed with curiosity stirred briefly in Gene's face and his look met with a wan smile from Tony who'd taken a seat in the chair next to him.

"Apparently," said Tony, his voice tight, "his friendship with Stefano wasn't nearly as innocent as my mother led me to believe."

"Are you talking about her stories of them growing up together?"

Nodding, Tony took another long swallow from his drink. "And others. And what she told me is true enough as far as it went but I came across some information, or rather, someone wished to acquaint me with facts that I'd never heard before…or suspected. According to Mother," his eyes narrowed in concentration. "My father's personality was as far removed from Stefano's as two men could possibly be; he was considerate, tender and thoroughly disgusted with the way she'd been treated. In fact as she described him, I can hardly imagine him willing to be associated with the family in any manner."

"A paragon of decency."

Tony's gaze turned from the fire to Eugene, a bit surprised but still amused at his friend's sarcasm. "From what I've learned over the years about her marriage, he probably _seemed_ to be everything her husband was not, and she worshipped him. Once he was gone, she truly didn't care about going on, so I find myself hoping that she remained ignorant of the truth." His gaze dropped down to stare at his drink that he held in both hands, elbows resting on his knees. "When his parents died, Stefano was young… merely a child and certainly not involved in the family business, not from boarding school anyhow. Instead, control rested in the hands of two of his elder brothers, one of them being Andre's father." He let this sink in before glancing up to meet Gene's eyes, which had widened noticeably.

"And he ended up broke, ruined…" said Gene, thinking back, "In London, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"And his brother?"

Sinking back into the soft upholstery of his chair, Tony wore an expression Gene had witnessed more often then he cared to remember, one filled with profound disillusionment. It was carved into the lines, deepening the corners of Tony's mouth. No matter how many times he'd been forced to deal the truth of it, the pain each betrayal dredged up made it immediately fresh once again, and brought back that murderous brittle gleam of indignation that boarded on rage lurking in the depths of his eyes.

"Dead."

Gene sucked in a breath. "And you believe Enrico was responsible?"

"Yes, though it appears to have been at Stefano's behest, or with his knowledge."

"My God, how old were they?"

"Pretty young actually, both of them were still in University at the time."

"Both." Gene turned to him wearing an air of skepticism.

The lines around Tony's mouth etched themselves a little deeper. "It seems my father's official job description was no more than a cover. Most people wouldn't expect to find the family's hit man out and about potting daisies."

Gene continued to stare in disbelief for another moment and then squeezed his eyes shut. "Tony…" But there was nothing to say, at least no word that would provide any comfort to such an admission. For Tony to learn his father was no better than the man who'd been responsible for nearly all the misery in his life had to be a blow and one that Stefano no doubt took immense pleasure in revealing to his son. And what of Enrico's other child? Gene's eyes snapped open at this thought and he leaned forward to look at Tony. "That's it."

Raising his eyebrow just a hair, Tony waited.

"John…. Andre's motive for setting him up for your murder in Arimed."

"Maybe," shrugged Tony, "but Andre didn't know about either man's role in what happened or he would never have been a party to any of Stefano's plans and I find it impossible to believe that Stefano would tell him."

"So Stefano is the only one with the information?"

Tony finished his drink and nodded silently.

"Any chance he made it up?"

The snort of laughter that erupted out of Tony was harsh. "Have you ever known Stefano's lies to be so convenient?"

"When you put it that way, no, but I think we both know the lengths he'd go to in order to ruin Enrico's reputation in your eyes." And Gene's attempt drew a grateful, if somber glance from Tony.

"I've been unable to corroborate my father's involvement in that particular incident but there are plenty of others he's tied to, and many of them Shane has just verified for me."

"But if Shane could gain access to the information, why couldn't Andre?"

"Like I said, there was a bit of supposition involved…the links that existed all _appear _innocent, just like the funds channeled through Enrico's account that paid for John's education but once I was able to give Shane with the other half of the puzzle, the half Stefano provided, he could match events and movements together and we found solutions to incidents that have been, until recently, unexplained."

"So your father really was Stefano's…" Gene bit his tongue before the word could slip out.

"Assassin, yes. Partners in everything apparently," said Tony getting up and heading once more to the bar, "until he made the mistake of getting my mother pregnant."

"Oh lord," and Gene chuckled at the thought that suddenly popped into his head and turning, he looked over at Tony who'd picked up a decanter only to set it back down.

"What?"

"Well, its difficult not to find the irony amusing, at least where John is concerned."

And instantly the sight of John kneeling at Daphne's grave flashed through Tony's mind, along with that look of disgust as Marlena practically drug him away from the cemetery grounds and back to their parked car, and Tony knew a sliver of satisfaction at the thought of what John's reaction would be when he learned about his father. "It may not be justice," Tony said finally after pouring his drink, "but I can't say I won't relish the moment he's forced to come to terms with a legacy that is anything but heroic. Somehow I doubt his response will match the one he's shoved in my face all these years."


	22. Chapter TwentyOne

Place: Salem

Time: Next morning

"Kate, this had better _damn_ well be important."

Even a thousand miles failed to dispel the forcefulness of Stefano's presence and Kate's body tensed as the underlying threat in his growl seemed to materialize in the room around her.

She'd spent what felt like eons the previous night debating with herself. On the one hand she'd imagined the pleasure ripping into him would afford, nailing him for his betrayal, for his lies and interference but she knew she couldn't afford to indulge herself right now … and she'd considered her options since leaving the farmhouse and forced herself to view the previous day's events logically. Yes, Andre wouldn't take the chance of lying to her. He knew that her first call would be to Stefano, so she was certain he'd been circumspect in that area. That wouldn't stop him, however, from purposely omitting details that might tip the balance in favor of his uncle, and she sensed that he'd left out quite a bit of the story, much more than he'd actually told her, and that made Kate nervous. She needed details, and information. She needed to know what the hell was going on between Andre and Stefano or she and her children could easily end up caught in the middle of a very messy war.

"I spoke to Andre."

That created a dead silence on the other end of the line.

"Stefano?" she prodded after several moments.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid I should have expected as much out of him after…"

"… you arranged for Tony to kidnap his son."

Another, even longer silence stretched out and it took all of her self control to restrain herself until, to her surprise, "He told you about Murphy."

"Yes, and why the hell didn't you?" she hissed from between clenched teeth and was met with a confidently benign drawl.

"I was under the impression Kate, that you wouldn't want to know. After all, you requested this arrangement of _me_ in order to forget about him because _you_ said it was the only way to obliterate him from your life, so that it would be as though he never existed. You do remember that conversation, right?"

"One that wouldn't have been necessary if…" But Kate caught herself just in time.

"Yes?"

She inhaled a deep uneven breath and made an effort to stifle the rage that surged through her at such a blatant excuse, but didn't quite succeed. "And Tony, have you warned him or told him that his cousin is alive?"

"You needn't concern yourself with Tony's welfare, Kate. That's not your job."

"Well, how very convenient," she said, not bothering to curb her sarcasm, "and forgive me for being curious because I have to wonder if you're concerned about your son at all."

This time Stefano's silence was not a matter of shock. She was too well acquainted with his temperament not to recognize the danger signals or ignore the sound of a glass hitting the table that echoed through the phone, and Kate wondered if she'd gone too far.

"There are times my dear when I wonder why I haven't had someone slit your throat."

The low edgy growl in his voice only barely concealed his bemusement and letting out a sigh, she grinned. It was rather a sick joke Kate had admitted to Andre once upon a time but one she and Stefano used every so often, a warped signal of sorts that allowed each of them to cross into that dangerously gray area that required telling the truth instead of their normal practice of dancing around it.

"You need me Stefano. You don't trust anyone else, not even your own son."

And as she expected, a chuckle rumbled through the line. "I'm afraid that's a scenario you've got turned around. I know exactly what Tony will do but unfortunately, he refuses to accept me as I've accepted him. He's the one unwilling to let his guard down."

"Perhaps with good reason?"

Stefano's sigh was weary. "Yes, but the past is something he'll just have to get over if he's interested in his own survival."

"I'm not sure," she ventured carefully, "that will be possible."

"I realize being back in Salem has churned up old memories…"

"Location is not what I'm talking about, Stefano."

He began to talk right past this remark but halted abruptly. "Oh?"

"Andre wants Colin released."

"Of course he does."

"If you don't, he'll follow through with his own plans for Tony…and I don't think you need for me to spell out what he's talking about, do you?" To her surprise, Kate experienced a degree of satisfaction in delivering Andre's ultimatum, and it occurred to her suddenly that he'd known she would, picturing the look on Stefano's face, an image to match the one that she'd worn so many years before and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she'd watched her dreams crumble into oblivion.

"He's bluffing." The tone in Stefano's voice sounded confident enough.

"Possibly, but I doubt it… and even so, are you really prepared to take that risk?"

The hesitation this time lasted barely a second. "There is only one man capable of pulling off such an incredible…feat."

"Yes, you're right," said Kate, her voice softening to a purr. "The same man you paid to block those memories away in the first place."

"Just what are you inferring, Kate?"

"A simple proposition really. I think its possible that Rolf has…made what he believes is a prudent business decision."

"Be careful…"

The pitch of Stefano's voice sent a chill through her but Kate was determined, and convinced that she was right. "Whatever else Andre is, he's never been a fool and if he managed to convince you that you needed him, even after what he did in Ireland, what would make Rolf immune to his persuasion? Do you honestly think that Andre would forget to remind him of what Tony would do to him once he learned the truth? Think about it. Rolf is simply looking after his own future."

Nothing, not a sound or breath made its way through the receiver. She could almost hear his mind racing. And it was a scenario she was certain he'd considered already, perhaps even checked into once he discovered what his nephew had been up too in Arimed but she was also aware of how careful Rolf and Andre would be about covering their tracks. When he spoke up once more, his tone was guarded and suspicious. "You have given this a great deal of thought, I see."

"I'll admit I've been suspicious for some time now but after yesterday, it suddenly began to explain Andre's incredible stroke of luck back in Arimed."

"Andre didn't need all that much luck," he grumbled at her, "Just the face I provided him."

"No, you're…" but she bit off the last of her sentence before the word 'wrong' slipped out.

"You're behaving," Stefano spoke up dryly after a moment's silence, "as though he hasn't gotten enough practice over the years."

"He shot himself for heaven's sake, and managed to keep everyone believing, even while under anesthesia that he was Tony. Now I've never made a secret that I think Andre's impersonations are brilliant, but even he's not _that_ bloody good. Nobody is."

When he finally replied, Stefano did her the courtesy of not pretending or covering his indignation, which very nearly bordered on embarrassment though it was hard to be sure. "Well, he's done it before though I do see your point, my dear…" His voice trailed off into another lengthy silence, which she was reluctant to break. There wasn't anything she could say at this point that didn't have the potential to set him off on a tirade or make him completely loose him temper and belaboring the point would only make her look jealous of Rolf.

The two of them had stayed clear of each other over the years, and she'd made no secret of her loathing, though she'd learned quickly that keeping her suspicions to herself was the smart choice around Stefano.

"I'm assuming that clever imagination of yours has been busy concocting an explanation," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "Let's hear it."

"Yes…well, obviously Rolf used the same drugs he created for you, the ones used to save Andre the first time…"

"I know that already," he snapped back at her.

Kate took a deep breath. What she was about to suggest would sound insane in any other situation, or if she was talking to anyone else but getting Stefano to believe it could actually happen wasn't the problem. He'd hired Rolf, after all and paid him to develop all the experimental drugs and techniques Andre was taking advantage of. The problem was, Stefano didn't truly want to accept Rolf as a traitor because the man knew too much. Just the implications were terrifying. "I'd guess Andre…allowed Rolf to alter his subconscious, make him believe he was Tony so that he wouldn't give himself away. Hell, Rolf could make a person believe himself to be you if he was ordered to…"

"Why on earth would Andre bother? Like I said, he's gotten away with it once before."

"And learned that there were risks involved from his experience, not to mention the first time around, he was treated in a hospital full of people, many of whom didn't know Tony well enough to recognize a mistaken comment or gesture. Arimed was a different situation entirely and Andre wouldn't overlook a detail like that."

Stefano's laughter was short. "Well, you have quite a bit more faith in my nephew's ability to trust someone else to such an extent, more than I do, anyway."

"Without an incentive, maybe not," Kate agreed, "but if he learned Colin was alive back then I think it would change him. Give him reason for taking such a risk."

"Andre never gave a damn about his son in the first place…"

"You don't expect me of all people to believe such a travesty. I know better, from personal experience shall we say."

"I know Andre too," Stefano insisted stubbornly.

"And how many of his nightmares startled you out of a dead sleep," she shot back, struggling for control of her temper once again and it took a moment before she realized that she'd made him stop and consider her point.

"Alright, I'll grant it's possible…maybe…"

"Stefano, if I'm right, god knows what Rolf has done to the twins, or should I say, what Andre has ordered him to do."

"All the more reason to keep our hands on Colin, " he told her and Kate smiled.

"So…you _do_ have him."

Stefano hedged. "I will, very soon now."

Kate hadn't managed to keep alive and in one piece over the years without the ability to read the man's moods. He could lie on a dime with creatively that defied belief but even he slipped now and again when he allowed sentimentality to get in the way. Admittedly, this happened rarely, but he'd almost lost his daughter, again and so despite his behavior, Kate knew he was worried, about his children and Andre, but especially what his son might be doing off on his own. "You don't know for certain where Colin is, do you?"

"He's with Tony," came the reply with a quickness that gave him away.

"And just what the hell do you think Tony will do when he learns the identity of Colin's father?"

"I know what you're thinking but that's not going to happen."

Kate's laughter held nothing back this time but to her amazement, he didn't loose his temper and his reproof was even pretty mild.

"You may think you know what Andre is capable of, but you haven't the faintest idea where Tony is involved."

"Are you all that certain that you do?"

"I know he'd do absolutely anything for those twins, and Alexandra, in fact, I'm counting on it, but taking out his revenge on Colin for what the boy's father has done over the years just isn't in Tony's nature."

"I hope you're right because if something were to happen to Colin, I have no doubt that Andre will bring Tony's past crashing back with a vengeance and once it's back, what he'll be _capable_ of doing to you, to his brother and Shawn Brady, but most especially Andre could easily get out of control. He'll be out for blood Stefano, just as you were…"


	23. Chapter TwentyTwo

Chapter Twenty-Two

Place: DiMera Jet, Over the Atlantic Ocean

Time: mid February 2003

"Where are you?"

Shane didn't come across noticeably irritated but even so, Tony could tell he was annoyed. They'd had no contact since his accident because in Shane's view, it was too risky as long as Tony remained in the hospital but he had taken the chance and sent a coded email asking Tony to contact him as soon as possible, so Tony had returned the call once he'd finally browbeat the chief of staff into releasing him but Shane had been unavailable and Patrick adamant. The news had to come from Shane.

"On a field trip of sorts."

"Tony…" Shane's blood pressure seemed to be getting a real workout lately and it didn't take much to get him going either.

"What a boring old stick-in-the-mud you're gotten to be lately," Tony grumbled back. "Since you're so interested, I thought I'd join John and Marlena who departed Salem the other day. I understand they spent their Valentine's Day back at the DiMera compound, and have decided to stick around a few more days until they've dug up the answers they're seeking."

"Oh that's just swell. And what are you going to do, wheel yourself around the place or follow them on crutches?"

Tony laughed appreciatively. "Such faith you have in the talent at University Hospital."

"Not the hospital," Shane corrected him, "just the streak of luck you're experiencing lately,"

"It could be worse…."

"Well, it ought to be after that stunt you pulled with Brady." And Tony rolled his eyes.

"I assume that means you'd rather he felt free to stick his nose into my business and play junior spy. I'm sure John would be thrilled to discover what you've been up to..."

"You could have thought of a better way," Shane told him none too gently and Tony's patience snapped.

"Perhaps next time, I can call first and ask your permission."

His frigid air of civility produced a cold silence in return and as it lengthened to the point of being somewhat awkward, he considered what the odds were of Shane hanging up on him.

"You're right," came a reply finally, though it was definitely strained, even, he thought a tad forced. "I'm not squat in the middle of the situation and you have to make your own decisions.

Tony was so taken off guard he didn't say anything at first. "Well…I appreciate your confidence," and fought off the urge he had to laugh. "What exactly was it that you needed to tell me anyway?" he asked, sensing that Shane's news had something to do with his irritability.

"I wanted to speak to you about the twin's DNA."

"Yes?" Tony urged when Shane didn't continue, "What about it?"

"We ah…that is Patrick has done the impossible, according to Stefano anyway. He's unlocked it."

Tony's heart began to beat faster. "And?"

"Well, you'll be happy to hear they don't belong to Andre," said Shane in a wry tone that made Tony appreciate the distance between them. If they'd been having this conversation in the same room, he was pretty sure he'd have lost his temper entirely at such a remark.

"That is _not_ amusing."

"Or John."

"Shane," Tony warned, softly and he could hear Shane take a deep breath.

"Yes…well, your suspicions have been correct all along, about both of their parents."

"Marlena?" he whispered.

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

Tony swallowed past the knot that formed in his throat. Despite all the months of fearing, even assuming it to be the truth, there was something about hearing it uttered aloud, now an indisputable fact that sent a chill coursing through his body. Their worst-case scenario…okay, he admitted silently, not quite the disaster it would have been if they'd belonged to Anna and Andre, but still…what was he supposed to do if Marlena remembered everything? For that matter, what the hell did remembering 'everything' consist of? He felt so damn blind, thanks to Stefano once again.

"Tony?"

"Yes," he replied, not caring whether Shane detected his exasperation or not, "I'm here."

"You certain you want to go to that island all alone?"

"Why? Did you want to tag along?

"This isn't a joke," Shane snapped back, "and what's with the attitude? I thought you were expecting this news."

"Theoretically."

Shane didn't have a comeback for this stark bit of honesty, perhaps because he knew what if felt like to be mired in such a sticky situation, complete with a formidable, and extremely jealous opponent. "I must say that I'm glad you're taking your brother seriously for a change."

"Oh god forbid I not take John and that attitude of his seriously," Tony sneered before he could choke back his anger and another edgy silence ensued as he struggled to regain control of his emotions. "Sorry," he said after endless minutes of nothing but the drone of airplane engines in the background. "The possibilities in this situation seem to do nothing but get worse."

"Are you still worried that Marlena will regain all of her memory?" asked Shane, and Tony figured he was probably thinking back to one of many conversations in Montreal.

"Maybe I wouldn't be so nervous if I knew exactly what that entailed."

"On the other hand…"

"I know," Tony interrupted him before Shane could utter the fear they both shared after reading the letters. He didn't need to hear it out loud again.

"I take it," prodded Shane after a moment, "that you haven't remembered."

"Not a bloody thing."

"Then perhaps you'd care to explain that message you left with Patrick yesterday."

"Message…" Tony tried to think back to what he'd considered so important the day before. "Oh, the one about Kate."

"Kate and her former employer…you're not serious are you?"

"That she worked for Stefano?" Tony chuckled as he imagined the look on Shane's face. "Can you come up with any other reason why he'd leave her money, a rather large sum and then go out of his way to make certain that I knew nothing about it?"

And as Shane hesitated, Tony could tell he was cursing under his breath. "How much?"

"One million dollars."

"Bloody hell," muttered Shane as the implications began to sink in, followed in quick succession by an incredulous whistle, and then silence. After a few more seconds ticked by, "It sounds, like her relationship with Stefano, whatever it may be, is far from over."

"Possibly."

"Don't be get coy with me, " said Shane in a voice that indicated just how little patience he was maintaining. "If Kate works for Stefano, you know what that means as well as I do."

Unfortunately Tony knew exactly what it meant. "Her relationship with Roman."

"Hardly likely _that_ is a coincidence."

And in his mind, Tony saw again Peter's old room back in Europe, the one he'd searched the previous spring and where he'd discovered items linked to Roman. "No, probably not."

"Have you spoken to her?"

"A couple of times, and before you suggest that I try again, talking to Kate isn't going to get me anywhere, she's far too clever for that, but she does have her Achilles heel," said Tony, letting the satisfaction he felt seep into his voice. "Quite a number of them in fact, but one will do."

"And which one did you have in mind?" asked Shane, not shocked in the least at Tony's reasoning.

"Lucas."

"Were you planning on arranging a little accident for him too?"

"Of course not," Tony said, straining in an effort to swallow his temper once more. "Actually, I thought perhaps I might find a job for him."

"Doing what, for christ's sake? "

"Well, he used to work for Victor, he must have some talents because Victor does not suffer fools, even for the sake of his wife…not during business hours anyway," and that insight earned him a knowing chuckle from other end of the line.

"No, he doesn't…which brings me to another idea I've been considering."

"About Victor?" asked Tony in surprise. "Aren't there enough people involved in this mess already because I'll tell you, the last thing I'm interested in acquiring is one more ticked off citizen in this town who has it in for me and thankfully Victor is far too busy creating misery for his wife to annoy anyone else."

Shane's chuckle quickly turned into a bark of laughter. "Is he? And just how is it that he managed to acquire the information on Colin blackmailing her, eh?"

"Not from me."

"No," said Shane in a voice that was clearly amused. "Of course not."

Biting his tongue and very annoyed, Tony tried to steer the conversation back on course. "You mentioned an idea?"

"Ah yes…. I think I've come up with a solution to one of your other problems we were discussing last month."

Tony waited, and the slightest twinge of unease began to tick in the back of his mind.

"We know every employee who works in the mansion reports back to Stefano, in fact everything you're involved in, every single business, even the ones that have always been in your name are connected to Stefano because he instated his own contacts at the time you were in your coma, and if Stefano is getting information, so is Andre. I think it's time we do something to change that."

Tony couldn't be certain why, maybe it was the fact that Shane seemed to be beating around the bush, or maybe it was a matter of his temper being on such a short fuse, but whatever the reason, Tony suspected this idea of his hadn't been designed to make life any easier.

"I'm waiting," he reminded the man on the other end of the line finally.

"It's simple really, you're just going to purchase a corporation within Victor's holdings, one that I've already checked out."

Tony's laughter had a definite ring of sarcasm. "Simple. As if Victor would sell anything to a DiMera at this point."

"You've done it before," Shane pointed out quickly.

"That was different, and he didn't agree to it for my sake, he went along with the idea because I was providing him the opportunity to repair Kate's relationship with her daughter, and in a different lifetime I might add. Bo didn't feel about me the way he does now, and he and Victor have grown closer…something Victor isn't about to risk by helping me."

"So, don't allow to catch onto the fact that he's helping you."

Frowning to himself, Tony's suspicions kicked in as he realized that Shane was purposely trying to avoid the subject of which company. "Perhaps you'd better tell me the name of the firm you have in mind before we get into the logistics."

"Ah…" Shane stalled momentarily and Tony thought he heard him shifting papers around on his desk. "Here it is. Club Echelon."

Tony grimaced. "A club? What, a nightclub where teenagers try and sneak past the bouncer with fake IDs and the college crowd dance all night? I can just see John's face...not to mention how the hell I'll stop the twins from checking it out."

"No, it's a gentleman's club."

"You can't possibly be serious," Tony snapped, his irritation beginning to get the better of him now. "Just how long do you think it will take John to discover that juicy bit of news?"

"Why Tony…I had no idea you gave a damn about John's opinion."

Tony slammed his hand down hard on the table next to him. "He's my children's step father."

"Okay, I know what you're thinking, but he wouldn't do that," Shane said, the amusement gone from his tone and his demeanor serious once again though he knew the minute he said it that he wouldn't going to get very far on this one.

"If…and it's a big if we're talking about here…" Tony bit out with as much control as he could hang onto to, "he doesn't try and rip my head off when he learns about the twins, he might try and behave himself in front of his wife, but that is as far as it will go and you know John better than to try and convince me otherwise."

He heard Shane's sigh through the receiver. "Alright, John might be a problem, but not any worse than he is right now. Hell, he already suspects you of crimes that make owning a…

"Brothel?" Tony supplied when Shane paused.

"If you wish…the point is, he's not going to find the idea shocking in any way."

And to his own amazement, Tony found this rather droll. "Pleased, yes, but certainly not surprised. You're right about that."

"I realize this wouldn't be your first choice…"

"Oh really?" Tony snorted in disgust.

"But, its been used in the past for some very shady operations, and has the infrastructure we need," Shane explained patiently. "If we simply bought any other business and tried to set it up in the same way, not only Stefano would learn of it, but also John, _and_ most of the ISA. This way, we have a running start at least."

"And you going to tell me that the ISA doesn't know about it already?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Shane…"

"Its something that Patrick and I worked on about a year ago and the only other person with access to the file has retired, and I know for a fact that he's clean…no chance he's got ties to anyone we'd have to be worried about."

"Well, if that's the case, then we're back to square one again…Victor."

Shane chuckled. "I did my part, I found the perfect cover. Now you just have to talk him into selling it to you."

"Yes," Tony winced. "Perfect…perfectly insane if you ask me. I might as well walk around town wearing a target on my chest."

"I think you're exaggerating a bit."

"Yes, well you're not the one who will be explaining to his children, or their morally uptight mother why he's suddenly running a whorehouse."

There was a slight hesitation and then, "And perhaps you'd like to keep operating from the mansion so that another curious young member of the Brady or Black families can get him or herself into trouble neither of us will be able to fix next time."

"No," Tony snapped back at him, "I wouldn't. I just don't like this one damn bit."

Shane refrained from sharing his opinion at this remark, knowing he'd won the argument and that rubbing it in would only create tension, which they seemed to have plenty of lately. Not that it was all Tony's fault. Springing the news about John's mother in the middle of Colin's wake had been Shane's idea after all and so he could hardly blame Tony for what had taken place, but the aftermath had not been pleasant. Nearly every single Brady with the exception of Caroline has phoned him, irate at Tony's actions, and blaming him for Shawn's heart attack, especially Kim who hadn't even been in attendance. What a tongue-lashing she'd given him after talking to Roman and Bo. And of course they'd told her that Shane was not going to arrest Tony, or help them investigate Colin's murder. She hadn't called Shane a traitor or a murder at least, but nearly everything else she could think of came pouring out and they'd had a terrible row, which boiled down to the fact that he cared more about his job than his family.

It was one of the most difficult things he'd ever had to do, listening to her accusations, to every hurtful word she threw at him and continue to remain silent about her father, and Colin. But that wasn't the worst part. Since Shawn's heart attack, he feared something awful had taken place in Ireland because nothing else explained what had happened at the wake or even previously at Stefano's memorial service. Colin's revelations back in Montreal appeared to be true and that being the case, Shane feared for his children, but even more for their mother and what she and her siblings might learn about Shawn Brady's past.

Thankfully, this preoccupation was cut short when Tony finally spoke up again. "I'm almost afraid to ask but was there anything else you wanted to discuss?" Shane tried to collect his thoughts.

"Nothing that can't wait till you get back, really…Gene called. He says Colin and Calliope are getting along famously and everything's quiet. Patrick has a line on Ms. Torricelli's brother, so now all we have to figure out is what to do about the twins."

Tony lay his head back on the seat and shut his eyes to try and ease the throbbing in his neck. "If your ideas for resolving our dilemma with the twins is anything like the last solution you just came up with, you're right. I don't want to know what it is yet."

"Actually, I'm not sure there is a way to fix that, short of locking them away somewhere so that Stefano can't get to them."

"That is _not_ an option," Tony growled with absolute finality.

"I didn't mean that literally…"

"I know what you meant and they're not being sent away or kept in protective custody, not after what they've been through."

"Tony, be reasonable. This is for their benefit as well as yours."

"And just how the hell do you propose that we explain that to them?" Tony asked, his impatience working up speed again. "Or," he added, "better yet, their mother?"

"At the moment, I have no idea," Shane acknowledged, "but what if Stefano told you the truth for a change? It sounds to me like only a matter of time before he puts his plans into motion and once that happens, there isn't a way I can think of to prevent the twins from following through on their programming... or to stop him from threatening you with the consequences."

"There's got to be another way, Shane."

"Like what, for instance?"

"I don't know." The softness in Tony's voice nearly broke as he uttered this admission. "But you don't know what you're asking of me."

"Yes, I do."

"No…" but immediately he stopped. Shane had a point, and he was one of the few people who understood the position Tony was in because he'd been there himself. He rarely saw his own children who lived with their mother, and when he did, dealt with the constant fear of what his job might bring about…how it could destroy them. "It's a hell of a lot easier when all you have is a split second to think about it instead of contemplating all of this," he said finally.

But Shane wanted the conversation over with. "And I think we ought to wait to discuss this until you get home..."

"Wait until Marlena knows the twins are hers, so that we can drag her though this mess as well?"

"You and I are not the ones responsible for that decision, we didn't create them and we didn't choose Marlena."

"I know that…"

"Then stop trying to fix it." Shane snapped suddenly.

"As if I could."

Shane stayed silent for a moment, and then, "Look Tony, you can't go back and make things right again…hell, we don't even know for certain what that would be and until you or Marlena remember what took place in that bloody fort, all we can do is act on what is here in front of us. That is where we have to focus our energies."

"Easy for you to say," thought Tony but he didn't say it aloud. Instead he took a deep breath and made an effort to shove his misgivings elsewhere. "You'll let me know if you locate Ellie's brother?"

"Of course."

"Then I guess, that is it for now."

"Tony, please watch your back in that place…"

"Next you'll be asking me to behave myself."

"I don't know…is that possible?" Shane asked evenly and Tony laughed.

"I suppose it depends on my brother."

"In that case, I'm afraid you're going to need enough patience for both you and John."

"You do enjoy asking for the impossible, don't you?" Tony told him, with only a hint of sarcasm this time and Shane knew that was all he was going to get.

"Okay, so it's a waste of my breath, but be careful," and without another word, he hung up.

Tony shut his phone and stared at it, hearing again Shane's voice telling him that Marlena was definitely Rex and Cassie's mother. Why was he suddenly bothered by this news? Shane was right, he'd been expecting it, they both had and he'd expected to feel relief at hearing it was certain but instead he felt an sense of dread he couldn't explain. It was easy enough to make Shane believe it had to do with John, but Tony's intuition told him that it had nothing to do with Marlena's husband, or Anna, since he'd already explained the possibility to her and the twins would be ecstatic after they got over the shock...so that only left one person to worry about…Marlena.

That look on her face the morning he'd come to the penthouse, after Montreal, in fact their entire conversation had an air about it that seemed familiar. Not déjà vu exactly, but a sort of recognition. She'd opened up and let him glimpse her vulnerability when it came to the twins and just that spark of desperation that gleamed in her eyes for an instant…he'd seen that before. He was certain. Only there was no way he could have unless the information he discovered in those letters was accurate.

He'd gone back and forth over every single one. Having only one side of the conversation made it a bit more difficult to piece together but not impossible though of course, the bare facts all by themselves couldn't make it real and hadn't produced any memories or feelings to match the one hint of anxiety she'd let slip, and there was plenty of things the letters didn't explain.

What had truly happened between the two of them?

And why?

For the first time since the letters were found he faced the one possibility he'd tried to bury but which refused to lay quietly in the back of his mind any longer. Rearing its ugliness, he was forced to accept what he'd done in the past and might be capable of doing once again.

He knew how volatile he'd been at the time, the constant anger that blew up without warning at the most inconsequential remark from Stefano, to the point that he'd purposely avoided him as much as possible without actually breaking ties completely, so, if he'd discovered Marlena locked up on the island, had he taken advantage of the situation or allowed his anger to take over? Had he forced himself on her?

Nothing he read in the letters suggested such a thing, but he only had the ones he'd written. Where were hers?

A portion of his fear sprang from the many similarities in the situation and his frustration. All those uncontrollable emotions he'd ignored after learning Renee was his sister until it was too late, so that with little warning they'd come boiling to the surface and he'd exorcised his rage and disappointment, and stubborn determination to have a child on the one woman unlucky enough to be in the way, his wife Liz.

He hid his face in his hands thinking it could have happened all over again. After Salem, he'd spent years searching out any method he could think of to erase Anna from his mind and soul but it hadn't worked. No matter what beautiful woman he was with, she simply didn't measure up to his memories and failed miserably to excite his senses the way Anna had. He longed for her constantly. Every time he laughed, he'd hear her laughter too and see that smile, and those incredible lips he longed to touch again…kiss again. Was it possible he'd used Marlena in the hopes of forgetting her permanently?

The thought of such behavior make him nauseous, particularly because he couldn't convince himself that it was impossible.

Setting down his phone on the table next to him, he pulled out the letter he carried around with him ever since he'd found it lying on the bed, the last one he'd written to her. He didn't need to open it as the words remained burned into his memory, but looking at it helped. Seeing the steady script and the words that flowed across the page…'I'm sending you home to John, where you belong.'


	24. Chapter TwentyThree

Place: DiMera Compound

Time: February 2003, later that night (following Marlena's sleepwalking)

Tony's eyes trailed after his brother who'd retreated upon handing out his threats, taking the stairs two at a time. Only when Tony heard him reach the top and make his way along the hallway that led to the bedroom he and Marlena had chosen did Tony relax and lean up against the wall, shifting his attention back into the main living area, most of which lay in shadow, except for a lone spotlight shining onto the seascape that hung above the mantel.

With the house cleaned and no longer covered in sheets, his sense of recognition seemed to be magnified, particularly in this room. It had nearly overpowered him on his arrival earlier that evening and he knew now that something ghastly had take place in its confines, the memory of which hovered at the very edge of his consciousness, tangible enough to make him feel as though he were walking about in a nightmare, but without substance. The minute he'd try to grab hold of it, all but the flavor would evaporate.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to relax, to let it pass through and center his emotions but nothing happened. Even the calm he'd achieved in his meditation when he retired had disappeared and if he didn't know better, he could have sworn the few hours of peace he'd spent upstairs were a figment of his imagination. Obviously avoiding the feelings did no good, so perhaps the moment had arrived to face the past, whatever it was…

With some hesitation, he used his unease to guide him around the room. It wasn't all that much larger than the living room of the mansion back in Salem, but the furnishings were sparse, and walls of stone instead of the paneling he was used to, and it lent the room an air of formality. Stately, but not warm or inviting to the senses. He purposely made his way across the spot on floor he'd ordered fixed, replacing the trap door, where only a few months ago he'd hung over the abyss, begging for John's help to no avail.

…Nothing.

Same with the place in front of the DiMera crest etched into the wall. He glanced up at the rafters, almost invisible but for the light aimed at the mantle and its glare created red spots in his field of vision. Squinting and then squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head and when he looked again at the floor near the massive fireplace, it was gone…no blood, no stains or color marring the flagstones, gone as though it hadn't been there at all except for the certainty within that it was_ not_ just his imagination. Neither was the vertigo he felt. He had to force himself to make his way over, to kneel down and press his palm against the uneven surface. It was cool to the touch as he'd expected. No hint of anything unusual appeared but still his senses insisted that it was here.

"Sir."

His head snapped up and standing just out in the entryway was the caretaker whose name Tony couldn't remember.

"Are you…alright?"

Tony nodded, about to send the younger man away but then something about the familiarity of his face, which he'd noticed earlier in the evening made Tony stop. "You grew up here, on the island with your family, didn't you?" he asked, confused as to why he felt the need to mention this out loud.

The man seemed surprised too, that Tony would recall such a detail, or maybe that he'd forgotten it. "Until my father passed away."

"Your father…"

"Sebastian."

"Ah, yes," breathed Tony, as the resemblance fit into place. So much like his father, except the eyes. Sebastian's eyes had literally danced with merriment and laughter until…when? Tony couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his old friend, and couldn't recall hearing about his death either but it seemed a odd subject to broach, particularly awkward somehow, so instead he said, "Thank you," dismissing the young man who didn't move, reluctant to walk away and leave Tony sitting alone on the floor, or so it seemed, but then his gaze drifted to the fireplace and returned to Tony. It was hard to be certain in the low light, but Tony swore the man's subtle gesture had been deliberate, almost a signal. Before he could say a word though, the man turned and disappeared into the darkness, heading towards the kitchen.

It didn't seem possible for the caretaker of all people to be ignorant of the room hidden beyond the fireplace. In fact, he'd probably been the one to place the letters Tony found the last time around and it occurred to him suddenly that more information could be waiting. Glancing into the darkness where the entry to the room stood, a cold apprehension gripped him, though lurking along with it was the tiniest sliver of anticipation. The answers were in there...waiting, if he had the nerve.

Slowly he climbed to his feet and found the button concealed beneath the conch shell on the mantel. A black hole appeared as a section of the wall slid open noiselessly. Throwing a quick glance at the stairs that remained empty, Tony bent down to avoid hitting his head and emerged on the other side of the hearth in the passageway, and feeling along the walls in the darkness found the door, so that he arrived at the top of stone steps. The empty room was visible with only a faint luminosity thanks to a full moon that was fading in and out of the clouds. Nothing had changed. It contained only the bed, canopied with sheers. The material glimmered where the moonlight shone through it and for an instant he imagined a pair of bodies intertwined amid the covers. With a shake of his head the image vanished but not the sensations that emerged and set his heart hammering in his chest.

Again he had to fight his reluctance. One step at a time, he made his way into the room and tearing his eyes away from the bed, walked to one of the windows and rested against the side of it so he could gaze through and down into the garden. Even now, in the middle of the night, muted colors blended together in a haze provided by the spray of the ocean he could hear but not see...and far away he heard a door slam, sounding hollow as though it came from a terrible distance…

He'd never been this angry, not even after his mother's death on the island could he recall experiencing the rage that boiled within him now.

"Rolf," he thundered as he heaved the mahogany door shut behind him. "Where are you?"

No one appeared immediately, and after a glance at the stairway off to his left, he strode into the main living area. "Damn it man, get in here, _now_." Silence. Where was the little bastard he wondered and at the point of turning to check the laboratory upstairs, Sebastian burst into the entryway from outdoors.

"Tony." He was flushed and had probably run all the way from the cottage down near the beach. Nervously, he eyed the stairs. "You didn't warn me you were coming."

"Where is he?"

Sebastian swallowed, trying to speak past the dryness in his mouth. He'd rarely seen the Count in such a state and recognized that Tony was beyond caring about anything, especially being cautious. "He had to go on an errand he said, something about medicine for the twins."

"When?"

"Yesterday. He…he said he'd be back in a few days, but both of his assistants are still here. They've got the twins upstairs…"

Tony didn't wait to hear the rest but spun on his heel and headed back into the living room, straight to the mantel.

Sebastian hesitated for only a moment and then followed. "Tony, please…you need to wait…" but he was ignored. "The twins are going to need a feeding again soon, they'll be down here with them and…they _can't_ find you in there."

"Keep them busy," Tony snapped and tried to ignore the look of fear and shock that settled across his friend's face.

"Think about what you're doing, about the consequences if you're caught."

But the grim look on Tony's face remained, even as he reached out his hand to squeeze Sebastian's shoulder and then without a sound, ducked beneath the low ridge as soon as the hidden door opened.

Marlena sat on the far side of the room in her usual rocker, pulled next to the window. Her head leaned against the back of it so that blond hair, streaked with sunlight cascaded over the top, her eyes closed until she heard his boots scuff against the rough stone at the top of the steps. When her lashes fluttered open, a look of confusion quickly gave way and she gazed at him with concern.

"Tony? What's the matter, has something happened?"

"That _bastard_." His words exploded through the small space and reverberated off the walls with an intensity she'd not been expecting. "He…" Tony came down the steps too quickly and missed the top one so that he slid down several move and landed squarely on his bottom about half way down. Marlena was out of her seat instantly but he held up his hand. "I'm fine," he bit out, "but that no good piece of shit I have for a father has lied to me for the last bloody time."

Marlena's expression mirrored Sebastian's from only a few minutes before though she managed to bury her panic beneath a adept air of professionalism. "Okay," she soothed, though her eyes still conveyed her alarm at his condition, "just calm down, you need to relax and then you can tell me…"

But in a fury, he hurled his keys still clutched in his fist at the far wall. "Stop it." His heart was racing uncontrollably and he was breathing in gulps of air until finally the terror on her face registered in his mind and he dropped his head into this hands. "Marlena I'm sorry, but don't try and manage this…and for god's sake, I'm not in the mood for being analyzed."

She didn't reply, and didn't argue. After giving him a minute, her hand reached out and touched his fingers gently, pulling a hand away from his face and hanging onto it. When he forced himself to look, he found her resting on the step below him.

"I do understand, but it's a reflex, you know," and she smiled.

It still took all the control he could muster to stay seated and found himself unable to smile back. "You have no idea how sick this is…"

"Don't be so sure," she broke in, her face tightening at the thought. "It is Stefano we're talking about after all."

And he had to shut his eyes and turn away at the stab of humiliation that shot through him as he listened to the bare hard truth. How had he ever allowed himself to be fooled again? The man was nothing but a liar, a… "He…" Tony gulped and bit his lip to try and gain some semblance of control. "They're mine."

Fingers brushed his arm but he refused to turn around and look at her and he could tell what he had said affected her. "Who?"

Though it was the hardest two words he'd ever had to utter, he managed to get them out in a steady voice. "The twins."

Not bothering with the subtle approach this time, she carefully but firmly used her hand to guide his face around in her direction until she could see the misery that made his eyes black, almost a void, and let go. She said nothing.

Silence descended over the room and as it lengthened there was a ringing in his ears from the adrenalin still rushing through his body. Every instinct within screamed for release. He tried to pull his hand from her grasp but as soon as he did, she tightened her grip and yanked on it, rising with a nimble grace to her feet.

"Come sit over here," she said pulling him further into the room.

"No…"

"Tony, I insist," she said, and there was a steely ring to her voice that made him finally turn around to face her. She stared back at him with eyes so incredibly beautiful, the flecks of gray green muted like the color of the tide pools at the shore, but also every bit as determined as she'd ever been. Part of him couldn't help but admire her audacity, and in spite of the resentment eating at him, he was tired.

He took a deep breath and climbing to his feet, allowed himself to be led over to the bed where she sat down.

"Sit…right here," she told him, indicating a spot next to her.

Tony raised an eyebrow, but her smile was charmingly innocent and no doubt calculated to put the patient at ease. He sank into the comforter anyway and eyed her cautiously. "Now, if I understand what you've said, the twins belong to the two of us, is that correct? You and I are their parents."

He nodded.

"Well, we've both had our suspicions in that area for weeks now," she pointed out, admitting what she'd never actually said out loud until this moment and with a great deal more patience than Tony imagined anyone could have in this situation, "so this cannot be the extent of what you learned, not if you're this upset."

Tony closed his eyes for a moment and then lifted his head and faced her squarely. "I don't know with whom, but before I came to Salem I had children…twins…" He faltered at this point as the emotions he'd dealt with for the last two days threatened to overwhelm him once again but she squeezed his hand to give him reassurance and knowing he had to do this, he grit his teeth and forced the rest out. "A girl and a boy. The only information I have about them is the fact they were mine…and the date they both…died."

Up to this point, she'd listened calmly, but the last two facts were too much and despite all her years of training, Marlena's steady demeanor crumbled as the implications of what he'd just told her began to sink in. "You mean, they're gone and you have no memory of them at all?"

Tony had to shut his eyes to keep the tears in check.

"Oh, god no…" And just hearing the pain her voice, and the pity was too much to bear and he jumped up and headed over to the window.

"Is it possible they could belong to you and Liz?" she asked tentatively from behind him.

"No," he said, rubbing at his eyes that ached from a lack of sleep and the long flight. "According to the dates I got a look at, they died several years before I met her."

"And their mother?"

But he just shook his head from side to side. "God knows…"

"Oh, I'm sure Stefano does," she said, a twinge of the bitterness she'd buried so deeply welling to the surface.

Hearing her mention his father, he swung about to confront her. "Rolf is gone…according to Sebastian, for at least another day or two, and there is plenty of room in the plane for all three of you. Sebastian is an excellent pilot. I've got to get you and twins out of here, Marlena, tonight."

"I'm afraid they'd never make it," she told him, still sitting as before and staring down at the bed, her fingers clutching at the coverlet, twisting it around in a way that reminded him that her façade was merely that, a way to deal with the constant anxiety, the insanity of her situation and worse, trying to fight the sense that it would never end no matter what she did. "That's the reason Rolf went off island because the last batch of medicine wasn't enough."

"He told _you_ that?"

There was anguish in her eyes making them far too bright as her gaze reached his. "He didn't need to, both of them are still so weak, and I…" but she couldn't tell him the rest. Her hand, shaking uncontrollably, tightened into a fist as she clamped it hard against her mouth, fighting with every ounce of strength she still possessed to keep from breaking down.

"Damn Stefano," Tony snarled leaning his head back against the window frame. "What gives him the bloody right to play God with our lives?"

"You…you think he _purposely_ ordered your memory be erased?"

He continued to stare at the ceiling and then his eyes drifted shut. "I'd give anything to believe otherwise but I don't know what other conclusion I can draw at this point and," his tone grew bitter, "I'm too well acquainted with Rolf's capabilities now." He paused, letting his gaze drift out the window, and then, "I just don't understand why…" the last word trailed off as he recalled all of the unanswerable questions he'd wrestled with on the long journey to the island. Endless and one after another; who was the twin's mother, where was she, how did they die and who was responsible because Tony couldn't accept that Stefano would go to all the trouble of covering up such an event unless he needed to hide the truth.

It was difficult to imagine that his opinion of Stefano could worsen after everything they'd been through in Salem but the last couple months had taught him that there were no depths his father could not sink to, especially when he'd discovered Marlena trapped here, and learned what Stefano had done to her…once that came to light, the beliefs he'd clung to just to make it through each day had begun to spiral out of his grasp.

He shut his eyes and pressed his hand over them to shut out the light. There was no truth in his life anymore. He'd walked away from all the people that meant something to him because of Stefano. He'd left Anna. There was nothing to hang onto to. No one…no one that mattered at least…except for two helpless babies lying upstairs whose lives depended on Rolf and his father.

Without warning, the touch of cool fingers on his arm startled him. His eyes shot open to discover her standing in front of him, wearing the same stubbornness in her expression that he'd become familiar with all over again. "You can't worry about Stefano anymore, or why any of this happened." Her look was so focused it boarded on a glare. "You can't afford to," she told him; sounding every bit the competent psychiatrist, though even now there remained a hint of how close to the edge she stood.

He knew what she was doing, and in the same situation, remembered reacting with similar instincts because surviving and getting out was all that mattered but it wasn't that simple now, not after the things Stefano had stolen away, and sure as hell not easy. With only a tenuous hold on himself, he gazed back at her. "Have you any idea how it feels after all these years to be stuck in this family…to know," and his words came lashing out at her, "that the person who has robbed me of all that matters is my own flesh and blood?"

Instantly a spark in her eyes flared with indignation. "Yes, I do."

But Tony shook his head at her. "No Marlena. Your sister hurt you, I know but it is not the same."

"You don't know…" she began angrily and then stopped as he spun away. "Alright, you're furious with him, I understand that but you can't let him..."

"What?" Tony demanded suddenly, turning back and eyeing her with glare of his own now. "Steal your…our children? Do you honestly believe I would allow that to happen?"

Unshed tears hovered on her lashes as she stared back at him and she shook her head slowly. "No, of course not," she whispered.

"I'm just as worried as you Marlena. I have not a single illusion left about what my father is capable of but asking me to just walk away from this without any answers is not an option I can live with." The fear in her expression hardened stubbornly for a moment and then she looked away, confused. "I'm not going to do that," he told her as gently as he could manage, " and frankly I don't think you could live with it either."

"But can't you at least wait until we're out of here?"

He tipped his head to one side to catch her eye. "Unless I was able to do so without Stefano learning I'm the one responsible, I'd loose all the access I currently have, to information, to the people willing to share what they know…to any chance of discovering the truth."

"But what if…"

His hand reached out to cover her mouth. "Don't. Please let's not argue about this," he said quietly, and with a look of resignation she bit her lip and tried to hide her misery by looking out the window.

The sight of her tears made him feel a complete heel. How the hell had she ended up in this mess anyway he wondered again irritably, flexing his hand and then clenching it into a fist to try and cope with his anger. Screwing with his life was one thing, but dragging Marlena into this disaster masquerading as a family and then experimenting on her, using her to recreate something they'd lost was so beyond depraved that just seeing her standing there with her head bowed made Tony want to shove his fist through the wall.

"You're looking at me that way again," she said, in a voice low and raspy from crying.

He blinked and went to turn away again but she caught his arm.

"You're not responsible for any of this Tony…"

"I'd say that's hardly a given," he broke in. "They were my children and he…"

"Is sick, yes…but those are his actions and you haven't any control over what he does, or how he chooses to carry out his plans, whatever they may be. You've got to stop manufacturing guilt for yourself over this. It can't change anything that's happened."

Though she meant well, her logic struck him as ludicrous considering their current predicament and it did nothing to improve his mood. Rationalization was simply not going to work and unable to keep the pain at bay any longer, he pulled away from her and started for the door knowing it was a mistake to have come here while he was still so upset, but she slipped in front of him, one hand on his chest and the other gripping his shoulder, manicured nails biting into his back. "Tony, don't…" and before he could stop her, she leaned forward and kissed him, not like a sister, or a friend, but passionately and obviously with no intention of letting go. Startled at first, he was far too agitated to think straight and he let himself be drawn in, the soft taste of her lips and her tongue as water in a black desolate landscape, which was just what his world had deteriorated to over the last couple of days.

And she wasn't in the mood for being gentle either. After what seemed only a few moments of creating a riot in his senses, she raked her nails down his chest and ripped open his shirt, sending the first two buttons flying off to bounce across the stone floor. Breathlessly, he pried his lips away and caught her hand.

"We can't."

Her eyes glared back at him, and it was a look he'd never encountered from Marlena before. There was a wildness in her. "Don't you tell me what I can or cannot do. I get enough of that from everyone else around here."

"But, Roman…."

And her head dropped down on his chest. "Tony…" a sob broke and raked her entire body and unable to just stand in front of her without providing comfort, he gathered her into his arms and held her close. It took awhile, longer that he imagined it would but when she regained her bearings, she tossed her head back far enough to look him in the face. "Don't you know I've done nothing _besides_ pine for Roman? Besides dream of him and wish he were here, and lie there waiting for him to show up and get me out of this damned hellhole? For god's sake, I screamed his name giving birth to the twins…but the fact of the matter is, he's not the one who walked through that door in the end. You did."

He opened his mouth but she quickly put her hand up to silence him. "I'm not blaming…I don't know…fate, and certainly not Roman, but right now, we only have each other…and," Dark lush lashes swept down to cover the agony that burned in her eyes but they couldn't cover the tears that came streaming one after another. "I know you think I'm brave…invincible," a tiny sob that was supposed to be laughter broke through, "but I'm not. I'm scared, terrified actually and the only thing keeping me sane is you and…" she had to stop and take a deep breath. "you…" but she couldn't finish.

"I would never desert you, Marlena."

She shook her head crossly. "And I'd never suggest such a thing."

Forcing himself to be patient, he waited as she held onto him and tried to compose herself.

"We're both going to crack here pretty soon if we don't face reality. I've been here for five years, _five_," she almost spat at him "and if we don't just accept that we need each other…"

"Marlena," he said, more impatiently then he meant to, "this isn't you talking."

For a moment, she glared at him with such fury he though she might take a swing at him but instead her gaze grew icy and brittle. "You'd never speak to Anna this way."

And in spite of himself, the corner of his mouth curled into a lopsided smile. "No, probably not, but then I'd never have guessed you would find my restraint insulting."

Instead of answering, she kissed him again. It was leisurely, even mellow compared to the first one but every bit as pleasurable and he could feel his body begin to react. "Marlena…"

"No," she whispered, "don't say no."

He didn't want to say anything. He'd spent forty-eight hours in abject misery, berating himself and ready to tear into anyone who looked at him the wrong way because of what his father had done, to him and this beautiful woman in front of him, and incredibly, instead of treating him harshly, all she asked of him was something he should have been thrilled to give her. "Maybe I'm just worried you'll feel differently afterwards."

And for the first time since he'd walked in the door, she beamed at him, her eyes bright with amusement, though he could swear he detected something else lurking in their depths, a kind of reckless abandon that he didn't recognize at all. "You mean, better?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "Oh, lord help me."

As she slipped her hands beneath his silk shirt and casually explored his chest, her smile widened. "This isn't the same Tony DiMera I've come to know, calling on divine intervention at the sight of a woman. I'm not really all that dangerous, am I?" This time, she wasn't in a hurry, and didn't tear the remaining buttons off of his shirt, but undid each one with deliberate ease until she got to his belt. A simple obstruction, soon undone, and then she stopped. "Your turn."

Tony couldn't be certain but he'd begun to feel as though this were all a dream. He allowed his gaze to slip down past her mouth, parted ever so slightly and then the curve of her neck to her shoulder, where a single strap held her dress in place.

"It won't bite," she whispered, holding back a giggle and instantly his eyes connected with hers, and they sparkled with a naughty air, full of mischievous laughter.

"No, but I do."

A remark that would have set Anna off and running but not Marlena who merely raised an eyebrow, though it was taking all of her self control to continue standing in front of him, just waiting...forcing herself to hold her hands down by her sides.

He leaned his head over slowly until his lips hovered only a breath away from hers. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he whispered and with a gentleness she wasn't expecting, his mouth began exploring her lips, with just enough persistence so that they tingled when he moved onto to her neck, making her feel things she'd thought impossible, dangerous things. "Tony…."

"Um?"

She caught her breath as his tongue located her ear and he nipped it playfully. "What…" but realized she'd forgotten her question. Realized too that she didn't care. His hands were creating nearly as much havoc as his mouth, and having dispatched her straps and then the zipper of her dress, one of them moved freely down her back as the other caressed her neck, her shoulders, dancing across her skin as if they knew exactly where to touch her. She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her until her dress glided to a heap on the floor and she felt herself lifted off of her feet and into his arms.

The hunger in his eyes was obvious now. She'd seen Tony look at other women, seen his eyes trail after a pretty figure with appreciation, seen him sit back and eye his wife in such a blatantly lascivious manner it had embarrassed her just to be a witness, but he'd never turned such a look in her direction, until now. And having never imagined how she'd feel, she was unprepared for the effect it had on her, the shiver that ran like liquid fire up her spine as unabashed, he stared at her from beneath impossibly long dark lashes.

He knew what he was doing to her. Just the hint of a smile hovered on his lips and his gaze focused on her chest that rose and fell unevenly. She was probably all flushed too. This is not what she'd been expecting which irritated her but only off in the back of her mind somewhere and it faded away when he learned over and kissed her.

More persistent this time, his tongue swirled deliciously in her mouth, working up a frenzy that drove out every other distraction, even the sticky afternoon humidity. She wrapped her hands around his neck to draw him closer and he obliged, indulging her need to loose herself and make her problems disappear, if only for a moment, though he had to admit to savoring it as much as she was. When he finally pulled away, his smile spread to a lusty grin. "So Madame…to the bed?"

"Have you always been this much of a tease?" she asked, plastering a frown on her face, though she figured she couldn't hold onto it for long.

The grin on his face widened. "It's not as though you haven't known that for a number of years now, you used to say I was terrible, remember?"

She made an effort to clear her throat in disapproval but it got swallowed up in her laughter. "You _are_ terrible…you're a terrible cynic and terribly naughty, and as I recall, you have a terrible temper."

At this point he was laughing with her.

"…but terribly attractive…" she added, bringing a finger to his lips to trace the edges but he grabbed it with his teeth. She shook her head at him as his tongue slipped across the end of it and then he let go and kissed it gently. "Terribly unpredictable too."

"Why thank you, my dear," he said, inclining his head in appreciation. "And are we done with this particular adjective yet?"

"I sincerely doubt it," she laughed again and his eye twinkled back at her.

"You have no idea how good it is to see a smile on your face."

"Yes," she murmured, "I know what you mean." And having waited long enough, she pulled his head back down to meet hers. "You may take me to the bed now."

He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing but the urge disappeared in just a moment as her lips demanded his attention, and he had to remind himself which direction to go in order to reach the bed, all the while her tongue pursued his own relentlessly, darting about and teasing him, making it difficult to focus and he hoped the shape he'd stumbled over to was actually the bed and not just a shadow in the corner of his vision. "Speaking of unpredictable…" he whispered as he pulled away to breathe, and check for something solid before he lay her down.

"What, you disapprove?" A challenge flared up in her eyes but she couldn't stop herself from smiling or letting her gaze drop down as he unbuttoned his jeans. Her smile and her eyes widened as he slipped them off. "Terribly…." Her eyebrow inched up. "Ready?"

But he gazed back with only the ghost of a smile now, letting his eyes skim across her body slowly, as though he aimed to memorize every curve, every inch of creamy alabaster skin between her toes and her face, and by the time he'd reached journey's end, the pleasure gleaming in his eyes was quite evident and all the incentive she needed to grab at his hand again and drag him onto the bed, on top of her. His weight was comforting somehow but she didn't have time to figure out why before his hand cupped her breast and she felt his mouth, and then his tongue flick around the edges of it, alternately kissing and biting his way to the top where he nibbled until she cried out. And as if on cue, his mouth covered hers. His tongue delved much deeper this time, pushing her to respond with an equal passion and she could feel her own body begin to burn with wanting him. The sensation made her almost desperate and her nails dug into his back. "Tony…"

Marlena awoke with a start, her heart beating wildly and in desperation, shut her eyes to try and snatch back the fragments of her dream but her head was pounding with such ferocity that she couldn't concentrate or focus on what she wanted and it vanished. All that remained were the feelings of absolute frustration she'd been dealing with for weeks now. The memories were all there, like echoes in her head but she couldn't see any of it or touch it without the essence evaporating into nothing and the longer this continued, the worse it got. She was beginning to think she might go crazy.

"Doc?" John's hand moved to embrace her and pull her over against him. As usual, he sounded wide-awake and she tried to squash her guilt at knowing he was so worried about her that he hardly slept soundly any longer. "Are you alright?"

Taking a deep breath, she lied. "Yes, I'm fine," she soothed, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Go back to sleep." She ran her fingers through his hair and smiled as he eyed her suspiciously. She knew that look but there was nothing for him to do except worry along with her and she didn't think she could handle anymore of that. Kissing him again, this time on the lips, she turned on her side and curled up next his warmth, and immediately his arms wrapped themselves around her as though he could protect her from everything.

"God, I love you…" he whispered into her hair.

She didn't answer but squeezed his hand and lay still until she could hear him breathing evenly again.

First the sleepwalking, and now this. What the hell was happening to her she wondered for only the umpteenth time that day, and why was she certain that Tony had the answers? How John hated that, and though she completely understood, it was getting harder to deal with his attitude about his brother. She just wanted to know the truth. She had to make him realize it wasn't about Tony. This was her life, her memories, perhaps her children too.

She lay for a while with questions chasing each other through her head incessantly until she couldn't think she could take it another second. Carefully, so that she didn't wake him up again, Marlena lifted John's arm and crawled off the bed, picking up her robe that hung over the back of a chair, and made her way through the dim light to the door. Just as she'd stepped out into the hallway and shut it behind her, she heard footsteps ascending the staircase. With no time to go back, she waited and barely a moment later, Tony came around the corner. He stopped dead at the sight of her and stared, perhaps not sure if she was awake.

"Can't sleep either?" she asked politely.

"Marlena."

"Yes?" He gave her a strange look and seemed to almost be waiting for something to happen, for her to say something but then he snapped out of it.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, and then remembering he was her host, "is there anything you need?"

"I _need_ my life back, my memory…" she told him, rather shocked to hear it come out of her mouth while the two of them stood about awkwardly in their robes, and here it was the dead middle of the middle of the night, but she wasn't about to take it back either.

She saw him swallow uncomfortably but his eyes regarded her evenly, without even a speck of guilt. "You may want to reconsider such a desire, _Mrs_. Black," and before she could reply, he swept past her, continuing down the hallway to his own room.

Marlena stared at his back and then the door of his room after he shut it quietly. He'd never called her that. And was it her imagination, or had she heard just the slightest air of sarcasm as he'd uttered her name? For a moment, she was tempted to follow him and demand an explanation but the last thing she needed right now was John finding her in Tony's room. She was already nervous about what the two of them might do to each other if she left them alone together, so trying to stifle her intuition that told her that Tony knew more than he was letting on, she turned and headed down to the kitchen in the hopes of finding something to help her sleep.


	25. Chapter TwentyFour

Time: same night

Place: DiMera Compound

Alone again with the door shut securely, Tony sank down on the bed only to jump up restlessly and pace across the floor. Imagines swam in his mind, he and Marlena in bed. He could see her face flushed with pleasure, lashes a dark smudge that swept across the iridescence of her eyes as she whispered his name and her finger gently traced a path along his cheekbone searching for his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut but still it persisted. The touch of her skin, its coolness and the sense of simplicity he felt lying next to her. How idiotic was that given the predicament the two of them were caught in…could it have been a matter of delusion or relief?

Reaching the wall, he leaned his forehead against the smooth plaster and tried to remind himself that he _ought_ to feel relieved. Problem was, he didn't. Not relieved, or guilty, or even a sense of vindication knowing he'd had John's wife. In fact the dread permeating through every corner of his awareness from the moment he'd entered the house clung with more tenacity than before.

He'd promised her that he would keep the twins safe from his father, but obviously he'd not succeeded, or managed to get her home with her memory intact, which meant his plans had gone terribly awry and to a point that Stefano didn't want either of them to remember what had actually transpired. A nagging instinct sent him back to his encounter earlier, and the strange intuition he'd felt as he spoke to Sebastian's son. What events was this mysterious young man privy to when it came to the past?

For the first time, Tony considered the possibility that the letters had found their way to him without Stefano's knowledge, _and_ without his approval. They revealed a history after all that he'd done everything in his power to hide and if this were the case, he would have already made certain that his gifts to Marlena awakened only the memories he sanctioned. He'd not allow her to remember anything that involved Tony…doing so would ruin his plans. It would mean John would know that Tony sent his wife back to him.

"And that is the last thing you want him to learn, eh Father?" Tony whispered at the ceiling.

Apparently, someone else out there either hoped for the truth to come out, or was working to throw a wrench into Stefano's plans, or maybe a combination of the two, which meant his theory wasn't foolproof. Still, what could it hurt if Marlena did remember it all? John would be angry but stuck and a part of Tony relished this scenario immensely, for here was a fact his brother couldn't ignore or explain away. And more delicious yet, John could do nothing but remain silent in front of his wife as sounding off would only prove he was bent on a vendetta, though on second thought it occurred to Tony that having lived so long with the habit of distrust and the need to protect Marlena, John would be none too willing to cut his lifeline. It made him feel vital. _And_ he'd succeeded where Tony had failed.

That was a sobering admission come to think of it, especially considering he had a pretty sketchy notion of the details, but not even Stefano could prevent the screen holding back Tony's memory from unraveling now and he sensed that its momentum was beyond the point of anyone's control.

* * *

"Would you mind repeating that?" said Shane, his voice so carefully controlled that Patrick instinctively moved back a couple of steps and prepared himself for an explosion.

"He told me that he meant to set up the laboratory exactly as it was before."

"Now he _wants _her to remember? What the hell is going on down there," he muttered as he turned to reach for his cell phone. It wasn't in the spot where he normally kept it and he had to shuffle several stacks of papers before locating it beneath the folder he'd just set down, as he'd come in the door. "So help me, if this is some kind of test, or…Tony…" and the tone in his voice altered just slightly, though Patrick could still detect the edge of Shane's temper, and knew he was only barely keeping it under control. "Isn't this a little early in the morning for you to be worried about redecorating?"

Tony's laughter had an edge of its own. "Concerned about my sleeping habits, how thoughtful."

"No, I'm concerned with your sanity."

"You and John both."

Shane cursed under his breath but with an effort, forced himself to stay calm. "Please tell me you're doing this because you learned something constructive or at least have some reason to believe this will work. Tell me this isn't some crazy risk you've concocted thinking that you can control what she remembers."

"You honestly believe we're controlling anything at this point?" Tony asked rather mildly.

"But you're going to try it anyway."

"Well…" he heard Tony sigh, "my options seem to be dwindling."

Leaning back against his desk, Shane decided he didn't like the implication or the conclusions his mind leapt to automatically. "Why?"

An answer from Tony wasn't immediately forthcoming and Shane knew he was right but still he waited for Tony to say it. "The letters are…genuine, only I'm beginning to wonder just who is it that wanted me to have them. Not Stefano, I think."

The typical sharpness in his tone was gone and Shane swore he'd let his guard down for a moment. "So tell me what you remembered, exactly."

And Tony chuckled. "I don't think you want to hear the exact version."

"Alright," Shane growled, "then how about enough to help me understand your reasoning here."

"I'm not sure I can. It's this place as much as the details of what I know now…" his voice trailed off as though searching for a way to put his feelings into words.  
"Whatever happened here, I sense it is something Stefano would bury if he could, permanently."

Confused, Shane shook his head. "Then why give Marlena the pillow? Why deliberately draw her here to the island where her memories could resurface?"

"Perhaps he's predetermined which ones she'll recover."

Shane's whistle was low but appreciative. It sounded like the kind of safeguard Stefano would keep in place and Tony's ability to crawl inside his father's psyche and read the man continued to amaze Shane who shook his head. "He's hoping she remembers the twins."

"Yes."

"Interesting theory. What if you're wrong?"

"You mean, what if she remembers everything?"

Shane felt himself holding his breath as he waited for Tony to answer his own question.

"After a few hours in this house, I'm not entirely sure I want to remember all of it," and veiled beneath his wry bemusement was a hint of the desperation that had slipped through his defenses back in Paris the summer before. "But the bottom line seems to be that I tried to send her home. I can't for the life of me imagine Stefano wants either of them learning that bit of information."

"At least not from Marlena."

Tony didn't pipe up to agree with him but Shane could still see his smile and thanked whatever God existed for his partner's ability to find humor in the worst of situations.

"So what do you need in order to pull off this little experiment?"

"I gave a list to Patrick."

Glancing up, Shane eyed Patrick who was standing on the other side of the room leaning over the window and as he felt Shane's gaze, he turned and pointed at the laptop, which lay closed on the desk. Shane raised an eyebrow and Patrick smiled back at him a bit sheepishly. "It seems," said Shane with more amusement than irritation, "that you've won over my assistant."

"Excuse me?" said Tony, sounding confused.

"The supplies are already in route."

"Oh." For a moment there was silence and then in a quiet, incredulous tone, "tell him thank you."

"I will…and Tony…"

"Yes?"

"Please try to remember that John is even more in the dark at this point than you are… I'd really like to see you get off that blasted island in one piece. John has no idea of what's going on. You do."

"I'm afraid I'm not nearly as sure of that as you are," said Tony cryptically but he didn't elaborate before he hung up and Shane was left with the uncomfortable impression that Tony's gut was leading him to some rather ugly conclusions. What if he was right? Shane had read all the letters and as much as he'd hoped they disclosed the true story, there were far too many missing pieces, especially at the end. Somehow Stefano had discovered Tony's plans and put a stop to them but Shane doubted it was so cut and dried. Having been on the receiving end of Stefano's wrath, Shane knew nothing could have been simple or pleasant for Tony if he'd crossed his father.

"You look as worried as he sounded."

Shane tossed the phone on his desk and shot a look in Patrick's direction. "I think I'd much prefer to discuss this abrupt change of attitude in regards to Count DiMera."

"Abrupt," murmured Patrick thoughtfully. "I suppose it seems that way."

"Two weeks ago you wanted me to throw the book at him after we learned what he did to Brady and now when he asks for assistance, you dispense it without even asking for my approval." Shane kept his eyes on Patrick whose profile disappeared into the morning sun as it shone through the window.

"I may have been a bit…hasty."

Two small wrinkles appeared between Shane's eyebrows. "You care to explain that?"

Patrick knew that tone. It wasn't a request but an expectation and he'd better have the right answer, or at least an honest one but that meant divulging things about his past that Patrick never discussed and did his best to ignore. "I…ah…" He shut his eyes and rubbed them. "Okay, I admit that I didn't want to believe Tony's story after you got involved with him. It was preposterous. This man has wealth I can't even imagine, so why on earth would he feel the need to come to you for help? What a convenience given your connection to John and the Brady family…"

"Even after I told you about his history with Stefano."

Patrick looked down. "Yes."

"But?"

There was a hesitation before Patrick replied. "I don't know…I guess I assumed that because he was rich, he couldn't possibly have to deal with problems in the same way as the rest of us."

Shane didn't laugh as Patrick expected him to. Instead he sat down on the couch and leaned his head against his hand, and waited patiently.

"I'm not doing much of a job of explaining this clearly…"

"You're doing fine," Shane told him, but Patrick was still agitated and turned to look out the window.

"Everything you told me about his past; the falling out with his father, his cousin's hatred, loosing his fiancé, his mother…" Patrick shrugged, "I couldn't see how those things meant much if he was willing to…well, deal with the devil so to speak," and with a strange combination of uncertainty and antagonism, he whipped back around and his eyes bored into Shane's. "To me that indicated he'd been more interested in the money, and his position in the family than he was in their memory."

Shane just nodded silently.

"What never occurred to me, until you met up with him in Montreal was that he may have had other motives, ones I didn't want to accept I guess."

"Because of his wife?" asked Shane.

"No, because of Colin."

Now Shane looked more confused than ever and Patrick swallowed with difficulty past the knot in his way. "My father…" he began, and then stalled when the words stuck in his throat. It took several moments and a deep breath before he managed to choke out, "he…was violent sometimes. He beat us." After an even longer silence, he finally glanced up at Shane who didn't appear shocked and wore a carefully guarded but still sympathetic air in his eyes. Patrick scratched his head. "The worst was when he did it to Mimi and Connor. I couldn't stop him…"

"And you though you should have."

Patrick just nodded, numbly.

"You thought because you were the eldest, it was your responsibility."

"Yes."

"Patrick…"

"Wait,' he broke in before Shane could get any further, "I'm not finished. I…" he turned away again and Shane could almost see him working up the nerve to get this thing out, whatever it was. "I left, the minute I got the chance, I took off running as far and as fast as I could from him, from Salem and my family." He exhaled a shaky breath. "I thought if I could just get away, and do something that mattered that perhaps I could make up for it somehow but that's not the way it works." The smile curling his lips as he faced Shane was wry and bitter. "The fact of the matter is, I was a coward."

Again Shane was silent but there was no disgust in his eyes, which was what Patrick had feared to see there. He merely listened without casting any judgments.

"Tony could have easily let you have your way with Colin in Montreal. You were right, it would have solved a world of problems for him but," Patrick shook his head in amazement, "he didn't, and for the first time I began to understand how much more complicated his personality…no…" Slowly, he closed his eyes. "I realized his determination to do what I'd could not."

Raising an eyebrow, Shane's lips pursed together momentarily. "But you still tried to convince me to inform John and Roman after what he did to Brady."

The wry smile popped up once more. "I didn't say realizing I could be wrong was a comfortable thought, or that I liked it."

And Shane nodded. "I see." For a fleeting instant, he felt a burst of pride and forced himself to bite his lip to keep from smiling at the young man standing in front of him. To admit one's shortcomings was difficult enough, but doing so because of someone Patrick had been raised to believe the worst of, made his behavior all the more remarkable to Shane. "What made you accept it?"

"The twins," said Patrick simply, as though it would explain everything but Shane shook his head and Patrick frowned.

"He could have used them to get his revenge on his brother, to play on Dr. Evan's memories until he tore her marriage to shreds but instead he put their welfare first. He's determined to protect them, even now…"

"Now…what do you mean, even now?"

A quirk at the corner of his mouth was the only indication of just how uncomfortable this was for him. "He protected her, or tried to and risked his father's displeasure to make sure she made it home…to his brother."

"Among other things, yes," said Shane, hiding a smirk behind his hand.

"You know what I mean."

And Shane sighed. "If that is the way it happened, Tony's ability to stick to the high road could very well be as tricky, even as difficult as the path you've been traveling all these years. Unless John learns the truth, he's not going to make this easy. In fact I think a part of him already suspects there is an invisible connection between his wife and his brother, and I'm not all that sure that even Tony's children will be enough to help him live with whatever truth he uncovers on that island."

"Why?"

The question shot at him with the inquisitiveness he'd come to treasure in his assistant and Shane answered him honestly. "Tony is afraid."

Patrick's eyebrow inched up a sliver. "I realize you're guessing, but of what exactly?"

"Learning he made the wrong choice perhaps."


	26. Chapter TwentyFive

Place: DiMera Compound

Time: February 2003

Leaning in the doorway, Tony tried to visualize the room as it used to be. Tables with trays full of instruments, metal carts and old-fashioned machines designed before the advent of computer technology, the incubators complete with labels marked boy and girl, an examination table he remembered moved off to one side of the room on which Marlena had given birth to their children. A room of horrors… and miracles.

Just allowing his imagination to picture it stirred a host of conflicting emotions. His children. His beautiful, incredible children so starved for love and attention, and programmed to do what? They'd been created in a laboratory and in the beginning, perhaps it had been an act of desperate, even twisted love, but not by the time their existence became a fact. By then, Stefano cared about only one thing, revenge. His life had deteriorated until wreaking havoc consumed him, perhaps in an effort to fill the void that had become his entire universe.

"Excuse me sir," The voice piped up from behind him and he turned to make room for a workman guiding a crate through the doorway and down the steps on a dolly. There were already several more scattered around and soon the room would not require an act of imagination. It would be transformed.

A prospect Tony certainly was not looking forward to. His memories of this room were anything but pleasant and it had taken only a glimpse to recognize the source of his waking nightmares, the ones that had plagued him for months now. It had all taken place here. He'd spent months wanting to know why but not anymore because inevitably it led to the same bloody maze from which escape was no more than an illusion. Discovering his past was turning out to _be_ a nightmare.

He lifted his glass, but it was empty so with one last glance around the barren stonewalls, he left and descended the first flight of stairs, which brought him the section of the house where John and Marlena's bedroom was located. There was no one in the hall this time and their door remained closed. No sound or movement. That would change as soon as the hammering began he was sure but for now at least he could enjoy the silence. Once he reached the bottom floor, he replenished his drink and taking it with him, strolled outside into the warm balmy, tropical air. The crashing of the waves against the cliffs echoed in the distance along with a voice…

It was trying to yell over the din of the propellers, and not succeeding. Tony had taxied the plane over next to the one kept at the island for Rolf's personal use. Sebastian stood waiting, shouting something. Tony cut the engines, and heard the end of his message, "…your scuba gear," and figured it probably had to do with whatever excuse Sebastian made up to explain his frequent visits to the island. It seemed farfetched but Rolf might accept it, after all Sebastian had been the one of Tony's favorite dive companions once, and the island had an incredible reef. Rolf would still be suspicious but he'd have to pretend to be respectful.

"Here," he grunted, lifting a bag from behind his seat and handing it to Sebastian. He had to scrounge to find a tank and a wet suit that would fit him properly, and then a pair of fins that matched. The equipment in the plane wasn't being taken care of, and he made a mental note to talk to Peter when he got back about straightening up after his friends.

"If this is the same tank you used last time, I hope you had it repaired."

Tony's normal response would have been some smart-ass remark, but he ignored his friend's worried caution knowing it had nothing to do with the safety of his gear. "How's Marlena?"

"Tired, but she perked up enough when she heard you were coming," and Sebastian's grin was lopsided.

Tony did his best to ignore this too. "And the twins?"

His friend's lascivious grin vanished instantaneously. "They're better," he said carefully, "but…"

In the midst of hoisting the tank on his back to carry it down though the tunnel, Tony stopped, alarmed at the tone he heard in Sebastian's voice. "But?"

Sebastian bit his lip. "I think they're going to take them away from here."

He straightened up slowly, and leaned back against the fuselage thinking that he should have known this would happen eventually. It had never been Stefano's intention for Marlena to keep the twins. No doubt he had plans of his own. "When?"

But Sebastian shook his head with regret and Tony nodded.

"More information to try and dig up," he signed, lifting the tank with his gear attached, and heading off to the trap door. He could hear Sebastian trudging behind him. At the ring of banana and palm trees he halted, waiting for Sebastian to catch up and open the door that lead to the flight of steps but when he did reach his side, Sebastian stopped too, and simply stared at the piece of rusted metal which was the only part of the door that was visible, without moving.

"You're here because you have bad news for her, aren't you?"

Not all that many people existed in his life that could read Tony as well as the man beside him. It was a gift, quite a special one. Sebastian could touch people and creatures in ways that never failed to astound Tony and to an even greater degree than Stefano, no doubt because he used his ability to different ends but there was still a down side to having such talents. If he could touch them, they could do the same, and Tony couldn't disguise the pain that resided in his soul now without obliterating what was left of his conscience, and so he nodded.

Silence, or rather the sounds of the ocean and the wind took over as Sebastian hesitated, debating how to reply. They'd known each other since childhood but it wasn't until later, a number of years after Tony came back from Australia they'd formed a bond that helped both weather difficult times. After that, Tony left and went to America. Sebastian learned only bits and pieces of what had happened to him there, the most shocking one from Marlena herself… Stefano had tried to kill his son. It was a fact incomprehensible to Sebastian who'd witnessed Stefano's pride in his children, especially Tony. What terrible thing had torn their relationship apart to such an extent that it made Stefano do the unthinkable and Tony willing to believe the worst of his father? Though he couldn't ask, he knew it wasn't just a figment of his friend's imagination because the proof of it lived in Tony's eyes. Much the same as the fear that he could see haunting Marlena.

"Does the information have something to do with your father?"

"My father..." and Tony actually laughed, "…is insane."

There it was, the fierce sense of hopelessness and the answer to the question he'd avoided. "He is no saint, I know but…"

Setting the tank down once again, Tony faced him. "I haven't been entirely up front with you about what is going on here."

But Sebastian shook his head. "You needed my help, _as_ I needed yours once." His gaze was pointed. "You asked no questions of me at the time, demanded no assurance or explanations."

The edge in Tony's eyes softened and he had to glance away. "Yes, but you have a family now, a wife, your son. I'd never forgive myself if I was the cause of Stefano hurting them in anyway."

Betrayal was not tolerated in this family but Sebastian had lived his entire life within its folds, protected. Stefano did not secure the loyalty of his people by indulging himself as Tony was suggesting. "Surely you don't believe that."

"You think I want to?" Tony squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand across his eyes. "God, not even after I learned the twins were mine but…" his usually expressive face hardened as he tried to hold in the emotions. "He's changed Sebastian. I've always known _what_ he was but this is different…when I came back I thought perhaps there was a chance for our relationship but I was so wrong and," he turned to eye his friend squarely, "I don't want you paying for my mistakes."

"Are you trying to fire me?"

That got the response he was hoping for, even if the smile was a bit wry and for a moment Tony's face had the wickedly boyish look to it that Sebastian remembered fondly from the old days. "No, I was hoping you might quit on your own."

"Ah…" Sebastian smiled back at him, "but I don't work for you, remember?"

"All too well."

And he did, in fact no one understood that concept better than Stefano's son Sebastian suspected. It was a strange, even archaic system, especially to those on the outside, and perhaps it had seen its day but for those whose lives it sheltered, as it had Sebastian and his family's since before Stefano took charge, it provided a purpose, and security that didn't exist elsewhere…unless the one responsible for providing that haven betrayed his trust. Sebastian thought back to the days when Tony had only just arrived from Australia and how Stefano's eyes would light up when Tony entered the room…his pride and joy, and he made no bones about how he felt.

When Tony came to the island originally and discovered its secret, Sebastian thought him upset at Stefano merely because of her. It was obvious they knew each other, that there was a connection. But nothing happened at first. He made no play for her and treated her more like a sister than anything else and then Marlena had opened up to Sebastian about her history with Stefano…about her husband, and what Tony went through when he was in the States.

Sebastian didn't understand why. He was pretty sure he didn't want to either seeing the pain Tony was going through but he could no longer ignore the implications of what was taking place here after what he heard from both of them. The time had arrived to make a decision, and choose sides. "Your father might be the one who pays me," Sebastian said finally, his eyes reaching Tony's and holding his gaze, "but he doesn't own me."

Tony hung onto his smile but now it contained a sadness that Sebastian had never seen there before. "I'm afraid my father has sunk to the point that he believes in his right to own whatever falls into his grasp."

Sebastian shrugged. "His delusions are his own problem."

"That is true," said Tony, drawing the words out slowly, "but he has the power and resources to back them up."

"If you are convinced of that, why fight it? Why did you come back at all?"

"You already know the answer to that," said Tony, woodenly

"Perhaps…" Their eyes met once more and Sebastian let the silence hang a moment. "Perhaps I'd like to be certain you still believe it."

Tony's gaze dropped down and he leaned over the tank. Sebastian could see him struggling with it. It was a responsibility he didn't want, not the way his father had before him but it had dogged him and somehow been the one thing that drug him through those times when he'd been tempted to give up and surrender. He might not be the future of the DiMera family, but he could make sure one existed for them. "I won't…can't let him destroy it all merely to satisfy his own twisted idea of justice. I've seen what he's capable of now, and…" Tony shook his head with angry resignation, "he'll keep it up until there is nothing left and he's used every last one of us."

When he glanced back up, he found a smile dancing in Sebastian's fair blue eyes and his friend gave a nod. "In that case, I'd hardly be doing my family any favors by allowing that to continue, now would I?" and when Tony opened his mouth, Sebastian reached over and squeezed his arm. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm doing this as much for myself as I am for you."

Tony nodded uncomfortably as Sebastian let go of his arm and went to open the trap door.

* * *

"How long have you known Sebastian?" Marlena's voice wasn't sleepy at all as she lay in his arms, and he smiled in amusement. Anna had been the same way. Sex always left her wide-awake, and hungry, but then he couldn't think of single thing that hadn't sparked Anna's appetite.

"I'm not sure, since I was a child before my mother took me away."

"And were you always friends?"

The question provoked images of the first time he'd seen Sebastian upon his return, down in front of the family's Venetian residence with Andre and a young Peter. Andre had not been happy to see Tony there. Poor Peter had been caught in the middle of what turned into a malicious reunion until Sebastian took matters into his own hands, purposely stranding Andre as he guided the gondola away with only Tony and Peter aboard. The look of outrage on Andre's face was one that Tony still treasured. "No," he told her "but Sebastian has a unique way of choosing his friends."

"Like Eugene?"

"Well, he doesn't have vibes like Gene does but…"

"He knows people, its almost as though he can see right into your soul."

Her insight piqued Tony's curiosity. "What did he say to you?"

"Oh," Her embarrassment was evident and Tony was about to tell her to forget it when she said, "I don't know if he told you about our first meeting."

"No, he didn't."

He felt her breath skimming across his chest as she exhaled slowly. "It was quite a while ago, when I first arrived here on the island and before the procedure. I'd asked if I could take a walk to the shore. I knew they'd send someone with me if they even agreed to let me go, but when he showed up…well you can imagine my surprise." The sound of her laughter was gentle.

Tony could understand her amusement because Sebastian was hardly the type of escort she'd been used to dealing with. He was a dark, not particularly tall, wiry islander, his face weathered from years in the wind and sun and he'd always kept his hair long too though it turned gray early on and for as long as he could remember the picture of him in Tony's mind included a strange kind of elegance. That probably had much to do with the grace he displayed underwater but still there was something about him at first glance, an air of dignity that most people weren't expecting. "If you'd tried to swim away, I guarantee, he'd be able to stop you quicker than anyone else around here."

"Oh yes, I figured that out later on."

"Marlena…" he threw her a sharp look, "you didn't attempt to…"

"No, of course not silly," and she laughed at him. "I was out swimming one day and the current was too strong…well, for me at least. He didn't seem to have any difficulty and he pulled me back into shore without even breaking a sweat, and you actually thought I'd make a break across the open sea to where exactly?" She'd turned over and was looking at him, her chin resting on her hands. There wasn't much of a moon out so it was difficult to make out her features in the darkness but her eyes caught the bit of starlight that shone through the windows and they gleamed at him.

"Sorry…I just know how desperate a person can begin to feel…" he broke off before adding anything else, embarrassed.

Instead of the laughter he was expecting, she drew close, brushing his lips with a soft kiss. "I know." She laid her head back next to his shoulder again. "Anyway, that first day we met, he didn't say too much at first. He strolled along behind me once he'd pointed out the path and funny enough I didn't even mind him being there after a while, it was almost as though he was a part of the rest of the island…the breeze and the sound of the birds. He just blended right in. And then we reached the shore line and I guess I was expecting a beach, you know with plenty of white sand and all but instead its just a strip of dirt and dead leaves, tree roots sticking out everywhere…and rocks…

"Coral," he corrected her.

"Yeah, he said the same thing when I complained."

Tony chuckled remembering how he'd been lectured on his first visit too. "He's none too happy with the byproducts of Rolf's experiments and what they are doing to the reef and he's right, there is more and more of it dying off out there. He points it out to me every time we dive."

"I wish they'd let me go, the way he describes it, must be such an incredible sight."

Biting his lip, Tony stayed silent as she shared her thoughts wistfully. There were so many things he wanted to do for her that were impossible and it did no good to stew about them but he couldn't say that out loud to her…wishing was one of the few pastimes she had left along with her memories.

"Anyway, Sebastian didn't think too much of my disappointment. In fact, he was rather insulted that I didn't find it as beautiful as he did but then..." her voice trailed off.

Tony waited. He had an inkling where this was headed now and knew it was the reason she'd hesitated at first to share it with him.

"He asked me what it was I envisioned out there."

"And did you tell him?"

She nodded, and then perhaps not sure that he could feel or see her reaction, said "Yes," in a soft voice. "I did. I…I told him about Mexico."

"And Roman."

There was a short silence, not uncomfortable really but he knew she was lost in her memories…her dreams. Finally, she brushed the back of her hand across her cheek and whispered, "About Roman, yes."

He kissed the top her head gently.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was stronger now with just the tiniest sliver of irritation.

Having to make an effort not chuckle at her reaction, he smiled into her hair and said, "Why?

"Well, I would think that would be obvious, after all…" but he leaned over quickly and kissed her soundly.

The whisper that slipped though his lips when he pulled away bordered on a sigh. "There's no need to apologize, Marlena. You think I don't know how much you miss him?"

"And it doesn't bother you?"

He let her think about what she'd asked him for just a moment before he opened his mouth, and saw her close her eyes and turn away as it hit her. "Tony…god, I wasn't thinking. I…"

Shaking his head he wrapped both arms around her and kissed her shoulder. "Forget it," he murmured softly.

For a while they lay quietly in the warm silence, just listening to the wind rustle the fronds of the palm trees beyond the window. "How did we end up surrounded by so many ghosts?" she asked him after a few minutes.

He knew her comment was not limited to the partners that each of them longed for constantly, or those who were lost like Renee, and she was right, there were too many whose lives had been cut off and wasted but they amounted to more than just the bare facts surrounding their deaths. "Those ghosts provide memories neither of us would want to part with," he reminded her.

"Is that how you made it through?"

Immediately, he could feel his heart rate quicken and prayed she wasn't asking him what he feared. "Through what?"

She sat up suddenly in the darkness, not even bothering to pull the sheet around her so that her silhouette was visible but not her face. "Stefano didn't keep you in a room like this…a comfortable bed, freedom to move around and enjoy the view, and he didn't allow you outside…"

"No." He swallowed uncomfortably. This was not a subject he'd discussed with anyone before, other than Anna, and not one that he dealt with all that well even then. Despite the number of years that had passed, the nightmares remained. Or rather, they'd resurfaced once he'd left Salem and pushed Anna away because she'd been the only one who understood him to the degree where he could open up and let out his rage. How did he tell Marlena that he'd survived by planning his cousin's death over and over again? And Stefano's. "I'm not sure what I did to make it through," he said finally but even he could hear the insincerity that accompanied it.

There was no reply to this at first and then, "You expect me to believe such blatant nonsense, do you?"

"If you're not going to accept the answer I'm willing to give you, perhaps you shouldn't ask" he told her in a stiff voice.

"For heaven's sake Tony, did you think I'd consider you less than honorable because you spent all your time wanting to tear Andre's head off? I _shot_ your father…I may not have spent months dreaming about it or figuring out how I was going to do it, but that doesn't mean I didn't want the same result as you."

"No Marlena, I don't think you were after the same thing as me," he told her, not willing to mince words any longer. "You just wanted the madness to stop."

"And you wanted what, revenge?"

Tony closed his eyes. He could still remember having this same conversation with Jasmine the night of the Ice Show, and recall how cheated he'd felt. Stefano was dead but he hadn't paid, not suffered nearly enough for the destruction he'd rained down on all of them, the horror. He'd meant what he told Stefano that night. The only thing he regretted was leaving the penthouse because then his father would have remained his prisoner and that night would have turned out as should have. Things would have been different. "Yes, I wanted revenge, and if I'd gotten it, maybe you wouldn't be here right now."

And it was her turn to pause, and consider the past, and she took her time about it too until he began to wonder if she'd regretted her decision to broach the subject. "That could be true, but…I…" her voice stumbled and to his surprise, he could hear her straining to keep control of it. "Not that there isn't anything I wouldn't do at this point to be home with my family but making Stefano pay that way…it would have destroyed you."

He could tell she believed it wholeheartedly but that wasn't what shocked him the most. Up to this point, he'd pushed aside his guilt over what they were doing because the only feelings involved were the sense of comfort they provided each other. Yes, they were friends and they cared for one another but that was all. They were not in love…and he was going to make damn sure that didn't happen. But what he heard in her voice was more than just her concern for a friend.

"Don't do that." He could hear the harshness grating in each word as it came out but he had to put a stop to this now.

"Why?" she demanded. "You think if I care about you that means I care less for Roman?"

"You don't _know_ me."

A chuckle rippled through the air and though it had a lighthearted flavor, he almost got the feeling he'd been slapped. "You suppose men are the only ones who discuss their conquests?" she asked him with a vein of sarcasm he didn't associate with Marlena.

"Whatever Renee told you…"

"I wasn't speaking of Renee, or Liz."

"Oh." That left only one possibility and Tony wasn't sure he liked the implication one little bit. "I see."

"Knowing your wife, I'm sure you do."

"Somehow," he said with a drawl, "I have quite a difficult time picturing the two of you discussing your…sex lives."

"Do you?" And he could almost see the impish grin on her face. "If you're interested, I'd be happy to share…"

At the point of telling her no, he considered calling her bluff just to see if she actually knew anything beyond the basic facts. After he'd gone, Anna might have needed someone to talk to, but he seriously doubted she would share it all with Marlena, no matter how good the woman was at listening …there were parts of Anna that she didn't share with _anyone. _For Tony, that was part of her insatiable charm. "Thank you, but I'll pass."

"Coward."

He smirked at the challenge in her voice and grabbing her wrist, pulled her over on top of him. "If Anna had been honest with you, she'd have warned you what happens when you do things like that."

"And what makes you so sure I wouldn't enjoy it?" she whispered in his ear.

"Because your not…"

"Anna?" she finished for him.

"No," he shook his head a couple of times. "Defiantly not a prerequisite."

"Then maybe its because you think I'm not that kind of girl."

"With a body like that, I suspect that's as far from the truth as you previous assumption."

"Then enlighten me, please."

"Oh for christ's sake, you're not a fool Marlena, so stop acting the part," he said suddenly, ruthless impatience cutting through his accent as he let go of her and sat back against the pillows.

And her eyes grew wide. "You're afraid." There was a touch of awe in her voice as though she could hardly believe what she was saying, "of getting attached…to me."

He'd not expected her to see through him that quickly and he had to bite back the smile that threatened to spread across his lips. "Yes," he agreed simply.

It was obviously a consequence she hadn't considered and she continued to stare at him in astonishment. "But I…" she stopped and turned over on her back. "I'm sorry. I hadn't even thought you'd be interested."

Now the grin broke through despite his mixed emotions. "The perennial libertine, is that it?"

"No," she shot back, insulted by his attitude. "I know you better than that, I think." And he found himself confronted by a pair of glowing eyes that bore into him and stripped away any attempt at pretence. "You can't seriously imagine I haven't been aware of your feelings for her. Hell, you made it impossible for _anyone_ to miss that."

"Yes, well Anna and I are divorced," he reminded her but she just laid her head over to one side and although it was too dim to make out the burst of annoyance tightening her face, he knew it was there.

"One tiny piece of paper, and you think that would cut her out of your heart."

"It's a piece of paper that will keep her alive." Tony said in a quiet voice that only barely concealed the sense of loss he couldn't seem to outrun, "and _that_ is what matters."

"Good Lord, you're serious."

"Yes I am, and you can skip the 'love will conquer all' routine please, because I've heard it far too often."

"That's probably," she told him stubbornly, "because it's the truth."

"And Renee's body lying in that grave before her time, what is that? A lie? An aberration? Maybe just a figment of my warped imagination." The sheer agony in his voice as it lashed out was savage, and Marlena remained silent this time. She had no easy answers handy because of course, there weren't any. Turning away, he shut his eyes, and instantly regretted loosing his temper. "I'm sorry," he said, "and yes, I'm being selfish and whatever else you want to call it, but I couldn't go through that again, especially if I was the cause of her death."

He felt the tentative touch of her fingers along his arm as they felt their way to his hand, which was resting on the sheet. Gently she laid hers on top and he could feel the warmth of her skin. "Is it truly so difficult to believe in miracles?"

"Of course not."

"But?"

She wasn't going to let this go but off in the back of his mind, beyond the gaping hole of emptiness she was forcing him to examine with such openness, another thought took hold, one so ironic it brought a bittersweet smile to his lips and actually lifted his spirits some. After all, they'd never truly been friends. Come to think of it, other than Calliope who could put up with almost any behavior, Anna hadn't any friends who were women, and Marlena would have been at the bottom of the list of possibilities. They were as different as any two people could be. And not that Marlena wouldn't have tried to lend a shoulder after Tony disappeared but if she'd managed to break through that abrasive, selfish exterior Anna used to protect herself, what a miracle all on its own.

Flipping his hand around so he could take a hold of hers, he squeezed it thankfully. "I think the miracles we get aren't always the ones we're hopping for, or expect."

His words must have caught her off-guard because she didn't answer him right away and when she did, he could barely hear what she said. "No, they're not." And just as he thought she'd retreated back into her own world, her own problems, she added, "but you've never been one to give up on anything, or anyone. Other than Roman, you are by far, one of the most stubborn people I know."

"You make is sound as though all we need is perseverance and it will fix everything just the way we'd desire it to be."

"You're not going to get by giving up."

"And sometimes," he said, his tone schooled so that it betrayed none of the frustration eating at him "we don't get it at all, no matter how badly we want it."

Snatching her hand away, she sat up and folded her arms across her chest. "Well, that's a load of self-pity if I ever heard one."

"If you like."

"Tony…."

Her voice was sharp at first but faded as he climbed out of bed. He grabbed his robe and made his way over to one of the gracefully arched windows full of stars and the shadows of plants that teamed with noises. Leaning his arms along the stone sill, he breathed in deeply. The air had remained close and he could smell the scent of gardenias blooming below him in the garden and a hint of the plumeria trees. A seeming island paradise to the casual observer. What was taking place here though was so incredibly sorted and ugly it had infuriated him from the moment he'd discovered Stefano's dirty secret. He'd sworn then he wasn't going to allow his father to use Marlena but with his discovery that the twins were his too, he'd come to the realization that Stefano would never quit. Someone would have to stop him. Without turning from the window he said, "As soon as the twins are strong enough to make the trip, I'm sending all three of you home."

"Home." He could hear the longing in her whisper and then, "what about you?"

"I'm staying here."

"Tony." For just a second he could hear the echo of Anna's exasperation in her tone. "You can't. How long do you think it will take him to figure out who it was that orchestrated my escape?"

He shrugged and turned an easy grin in her direction. "And what would he do when he learns? Throw a tantrum?"

But her expression didn't change. Instead her frown deepened and she gazed up at him suspiciously. "He will kill you, " she said and there was a deep sense of conviction ringing in every word. "Or worse…"

Tony's grin vanished. "Not if I get to him first."


	27. Chapter TwentySix

He could feel the instant sense of riveted awareness and her disbelief all the way over where he was standing. "Tell me I didn't hear that correctly."

"No, I'd say your faculties are in satisfactory working order." And he waited for an argument to erupt, but it didn't, at least not the way it would have if he'd been having this conversation with Anna.

"Why?" she asked him after sitting in the ringing silence for several moments as they looked at each other.

"After everything that has happened, you can ask me that?"

"I know why we'd both _like_ to kill him, but Tony…"

Her voiced trailed off and he couldn't stop himself from laughing. "If you're trying to tell me that you have concerns for my soul," he told her, an air of sarcasm buried ever so neatly beneath the irony, "you needn't bother."

"This is not some da...I'm not joking." The aggravation was seething in her now. "Whatever kind of monster he's become, he's still your father…he gave you life," she finished and though it should have sounded as tiresome as most cliques he'd ever heard, she managed to breathe into it a poignancy that stabbed at him.

"So I ought to just stand by as he takes it away from everyone unlucky enough to get caught in his orbit, is that it?'

"No, but can't you at least make an effort to hand him over to the authorities?"

"This isn't Salem, Marlena. We're not back in the States."

She didn't answer but he could see her shake her head, and so he tried again, this time with more patience.

"You've traveled past the edge of the world my dear…out to the place where," and he raised an eyebrow, "there are only dragons. My god, how long have you been stuck here?"

He figured it was probably the last question that got to her because she sat still, her hand jammed up to her mouth, holding back her fear. She didn't say anything but she did give him a nod.

"When I came back, I tried to get past everything he'd done but it's too late for that now…" his voice cracked and he turned back to the velvety blackness shining in the open window.

"You could leave."

It was said in such a soft, seductively optimistic tone that his fingers gripped the edge of the masonry just to keep venting the full measure of his frustration at her. As though he didn't dream constantly of running away. Just listening to her tell him that was okay to ditch his responsibilities and the people who needed him simply because he could, because the woman he adored was out there, eager to welcome him with open arms and make him forget this nightmare hit a nerve deep within him because, of course that was what he wanted to do more than anything at this point. When he finally turned to face her, he'd calmed himself some but his face was still grim. "You and I both know that would never be acceptable, especially in my world."

"Tony…"

"No," he snapped, narrowing his eyes. "Don't do this to me."

"But why? You think Anna wouldn't…"

"Stop it." The words echoed in his ears along with the sound of his blood pumping at an alarming rate. "Please…" he added after a few moments, lowering his tone. "I know you're trying to help me, but asking me to pretend that none of this exists won't do that."

"How do you know?" 

And her insistence about this struck him suddenly as something he'd never expected out of her and he shook his head, confused. "You of all people…"

"Yes because you're talking about throwing everything away that means anything to you because of him. He's not worth it Tony."

"Is that your experience talking?" he asked with only a hint of irony he knew they both recognized in the situation.

"No…" but she didn't continue with the thought she'd been deliberating.

"Tell me," he said after a minute, and he locked eyes with her, "when Roman was lost on the island, it devastated you, I know but would you have been able to live with him ignoring it altogether? He didn't have to come and help us."

"Bo was there," she reminded him.

"But not you and not his children."

"No, but you knew Roman, family means everything to him."

Standing quietly, he allowed her words to sink in until she lowered her eyes.

"I see."

"If I do nothing Marlena, what happened to Renee and my mother, and to you will happen to others…people I care about, _just as it did this time_, and that includes our children. Is that the consequence you'd expect me to walk away from?"

"No," she said miserably, "no, I wouldn't."

A part of him hated doing this to her and that clicked off a warning in the back of his mind but he refused to listen. It was immaterial. He was not getting attached and if he had to shove the truth in her face in such a cruel manner to keep her from doing the same, he would. This would never work, even with what he'd learned only a matter of days ago. Until he'd accomplished his goal, the last thing he needed was anymore emotional attachments for Stefano to use in this dirty little war of his. Just the existence of the twins was bad enough.

"You discovered more information, didn't you? Something else…"

He'd let his eyes drift shut but as soon as her question was out, hanging between them, she was faced with his dark gaze and a steady expression that simply waited.

"Well, didn't you?" she prodded.

Regarding her cautiously, he had to wonder if she could read him this well, of if it was merely a guess. He nodded his head but didn't elaborate.

"Oh, come on Tony," she said in a way that made it obvious that avoiding the subject would not work, "please don't make me dig it out of you."

He ran his fingers up along his temple, and then rubbed his eyes that ached from too much salt water and too little sleep. "I was hoping it could wait until tomorrow."

"Why?"

Her directness could be unnerving at times. Despite her soft air and gentle nature, she was tenacious beyond belief and even if he'd not been sure of it before, the fact she'd survived her imprisonment this long with her spirit intact was enough of a warning. "Because it concerns you."

The tone of his voice had been carefully unemotional and flat but still her eyes widened, and her apprehension was apparent even in the dim light. "I don't want to wait until tomorrow."

"No, of course not," he sighed. "In that case..." With a deep breath, he climbed back onto the bed and sat cross-legged in front of her, reaching out to grasp her hand. It felt clammy, wet from perspiration. "There's no easy way to put this…" he began but already his emotions threatened to swallow him and ruin any chance of getting this out before her reaction got to him but how could he turn away? If she had to face this, he couldn't let her do it alone. For a second, he stared down at her hand in his and focused his mind until he could breath evenly again. Quickly, he raised his eyes. "The man back in Salem, the one you believe to be Roman is not…he's an…imposter."

Her hand yanked itself away from him. "No, you're wrong." The brightness in her own eyes still mirrored what little light actually made it into the room and belied the fervor in her words. "That man is definitely Roman Brady. He remembered things that only my husband could know."

"And have you learned nothing from spending this much time around Rolf?" It was said in a calm, if somewhat wry manner but she couldn't mistake the implication he was making and she shook her head in denial.

"You don't understand…he is Roman…he remembered…he told me things under hypnosis…he wasn't making it up for god's sake, he knew…" but her resolve faltered as she stared into his eyes and realized that he would never have come to her with such a horrendous piece of information unless he had proof. He watched her breathing become more pronounced and labored as she searched for anything that would contradict what he'd told her. It wasn't true. She didn't want it to be true, wouldn't allow it to be. He was out there waiting for her, she could feel it but he'd not come looking for her, not sensed she was alive and trapped and so very desperate. A trembling hand covered her mouth and still shaking her head, her eyes implored him to take it back.

"I'm sorry Marlena. God, how I wish…" but he couldn't continue and had to bite his lip to keep control of himself.

"But how did…" He could see her mind racing as quickly as her breathing. "If he knew those things…" and gradually, in the midst of the despair pinching the skin around her mouth and her eyes, the tiniest spark of hope gleamed out at him.

"Then yes, it would seem Roman survived, but if he did, I've been unable to locate him," Tony explained gently, "or even come up a clue of where to begin."

For a infinite second, all he could see was the anguish that burned with a terrible brilliance in her eyes but before he could react, she buried her head in her hands, wanting still to deny it, to hide from it, and Tony's insides churned as he watched her, only a couple feet away but alone in her grief. Untouchable. 

She'd always done that. It worked because she had so many people she could turn to; the Hortons, Roman and his family, even Gene and Abe and Don. They all shared the same trials, the same pain and though they'd reached out to him as well, he'd never allowed the barrier to come down completely, especially after the island. The guilt haunted him and when he'd failed to prevent Stefano from hurting them all over again, the only thing left to do was try and move on, bury it, and being the honorable people they were, they'd understood. They'd allowed him to make amends in his own way and let him be.

But now she was alone with no one except him. If he opened up to her, or allowed her to do the same, he feared the consequences for both of them He'd learned the hard way that controlling one's emotions was not always possible and her ability to do so was already about to be tested. How could he add to her confusion? Uncertainty raged inside but outwardly he sat, waiting patiently and without warning, her head snapped up to stare at him.

"So, who is _he_?"

Her voice had suddenly taken on the strangest quality. The words slipped out in such a quiet fashion he almost missed the icy touch of fury accenting the last one, though he was hardly surprised. Being used was something he was well acquainted with, after all. "Other than a name, I don't know, and to tell you the truth, I'm not all that certain the name I have is truly his. It could be one that Stefano invented."

She nodded, looking up at him in a way that far too calm and then, "Tell me."

"John Stevens."

"John." And she looked at him quizzically as though she didn't believe him.

"Yes…Marlena, what's the matter?"

"When Ro…when he first came to town, that's the name he used."

He blinked in surprise. "John Stevens?"

"No, John Black, but he told me later that it was a name he'd just picked at random, off a wall and also, at the time he had no idea of who he was, or his real name. Nothing."

"Strange coincidence." Tony didn't do that good a job of covering his sarcasm and she threw him a spark look.

"You dug up nothing else about him?"

He shrugged. "It appears he worked for Stefano but I've been unable to confirm that with a single person I trust so..."

"And you never met him or heard of him?" Her voice was growing almost insistent and he had to consciously swallow his irritation though at the same time he found his curiosity aroused. She seemed far more concerned with this imposter than with Roman's whereabouts.

"The part of my father's business he conducted is one I've gone to great pains to avoid getting involved in."

"What do you mean exactly…conducted?"

"Marlena look, I don't know that any of this is real or…"

But she wasn't about to let him get around her with this evasion. "He's been raising my children Tony…he's been raising Carrie…" and now the desperation in her tone and in her eyes pleaded with him, "so I don't care if this is a wild guess on your part or unsubstantiated or whatever…I've got to know what you found out."

Carrie. This stranger sent to Salem by his father lived in the same house, took care of her, pretended to be her father, lied to her everyday. "Lets just say he's never operated within the parameters of the law."

"That covers an awful lot of territory," she replied carefully though her fear was still plainly evident.

"Marlena…"

"Just say it," she whispered at him fiercely.

Swallowing a grimace, he said, "I believe the term used in the states would be a soldier of fortune."

"Sounds like a polite way of saying he…is a…hired killer."

"He did whatever Stefano needed him to do," Tony clarified, "and since I think we both know my father better than we'd like, murder, I'm afraid would certainly be part of his resume."

"Why?" It seared through him, a cry of pure agony begging for any reason to explain this insanity. Unfortunately he had no answers. He had not the slightest idea why his father sent this man to take Roman's place, or where he'd come from and the few things he suspected made his blood run cold. She was shaking her head again and now it came out in a whisper. "Why is he doing this to me?"

"That's simple enough," Tony snarled with such bitterness that she reached to find his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "He's obsessed, crazy. What more of an explanation do you need?"

"Tony… you know how I feel about your father but I'm…" he could see it almost choked her to say the word, "sorry…"

"Don't be," he interrupted before she could get any further, wondering not for the first time how she managed to do that, where on earth she found the strength to deal with another's pain in the midst of her own troubles. He'd never considered before that it might be therapeutic. "Whatever drove him over the edge is consuming him now. It's a disease." Despite the anger, he felt his eyes begin to burn. "Perhaps if I didn't have quite so many memories of what he was before…" he shook his head slowly, "I don't know… "

Marlena remained silent but he could tell she was holding back and letting go of her hand, he drew a lock of hair aside and brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek.

"What is it?"

Her hesitation stretched for another moment and then, "You probably already knew this but Renee's mother, Lee…"

"Yes?"

"Well, she and I had a number of conversations."

And he nodded.

"About Stefano…about the family," and her eyes connected with his, "about the history involved. Why she was so adamant about not telling Renee the truth because she feared what could happen in the end."

Tony could easily guess which images were running through her mind as she told him this. He'd learned she was one of the few people who attended that wretched party to see Renee's body and how Lee's words must have resurfaced like a prophecy fulfilled. "Lee was right. He's always been dangerous, and utterly ruthless when it came to anyone who challenged him but…and I know it must be difficult for you to imagine, he could also be very loving, even compassionate and gentle."

"Are you sure we're talking about the same man?"

Tony's smile was sad. "As a child, I remember a man so different, one who was whole and at least displayed principals, if only to be an example but somewhere along the way he tossed them aside. It's like he's on some mad crusade and I don't even know what its about, expect that it rips apart everyone who strays too near, including the people he professes to love."

"Yes," and now it was her voice that lashed out in bitterness, "those he claims to respect as well."

He raised an eyebrow at her comment, and she looked down.

"He's told me on more than one occasion how much he respected Roman…what a worthy opponent he was, how he _honored_ him." The last few words were spit out with loathing but when her head came up, her confusion was obvious. "Except that I could swear he truly regretted what happened to Roman on the island…"

"You mean having to face the consequences of his actions."

"No." And she was shaking her head without hesitation. "I think it was one of the reasons I convinced myself this man was Roman, even when he didn't regain all of his memories, I knew…" her voice shut down abruptly, as though she were afraid she'd said too much and Tony didn't press. If she wished to share any of this, he'd listen but acknowledged silently his hope that she wouldn't. How many times had he lived through all of this so that it followed him around like a weight that only grew heavier year after year and he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. "I…oh god, I should have known." It slipped out in a frantic whisper and he could see that she was close to breaking down.

With some difficulty, he ignored the alarm blaring in his head. Pulling her into his arms, he tried to soothe away the noiseless sobs wracking her body and she clung to him, gripping onto the fabric of his robe, afraid perhaps that he'd let go. He had no idea how long they stayed that way. The side of her head was on his shoulder so that strands hair tickled his face and he breathed in but then shut his eyes tightly to stop himself from the automatic comparison that popped into his mind and the longing, wishing it was Anna curled up here beside him. The sensation never failed to hit him at the most inconvenient moments. Finally, she relaxed some and lay quietly against him, though her breathing was still too fast.

"The first few months he was in town, he did things…said things that should have alerted me." 

Her voice was calm, but had a rushed breathless quality that made him realize just what an incredible strain this was for her. "What things?"

Sitting up suddenly, she looked straight at him. "The man has a phoenix tattooed on back of one shoulder."

"He _what_?" 

She nodded at him. "When I saw it, I was so certain he was Stefano, but then the photographs we'd recovered…" she was gulping air now, "it was Roman's face and I didn't even question them or..."

Reaching out his hand, he stroked her face with a gentleness that produced even more tears. "Marlena, stop…" but she was fighting him now, pushing away his hand and he raised his voice to try and calm her, "listen to me, you had no way to know."

"You don't understand." She tried to squeeze her eyes shut to hold back the flood but it burst through anyway, dripping off her lashes and streaming down her cheeks. "You couldn't…" The words held so much pain that just listening to her do this to herself dredged up memories he never wanted to experience again. "You don't know…it's all wrong….utterly, completely wrong," she cried out, shaking her head.

But he did know. With an awful sinking in his heart, he saw it all so plainly. She loved this man. He wasn't Roman but she loved him.

When she raised her head and faced him, she saw immediately the awareness reflected as he stared back at her. Her eyes darted away but only for a moment, remembering perhaps the same day replaying itself in his mind, the day she and Roman arrived at the cabin with that letter for Renee, and as her gaze returned, it no longer held anything back or tried to disguise the total sense of bewilderment she felt. "Tell me something."

Not all that certain he was ready for this, he waited.

"Renee…you got over her…moved past the…"

But he shook his head and had to grit his teeth to keep the familiar rage at bay.

She swallowed carefully, looking unsure of herself for the first time. "Then how?"

"Are you searching for a cure, Marlena?" There was just the slightest hint of irony lurking in his tone once again. "You know better than that."

But she was not in the mood for any of his morose, sarcastic humor. "I didn't ask for this," she yelled at him, and there was hysteria hovering at the edge of her voice. "I didn't want it, I didn't want him…I just want my husband back…I want…my life back. The one I had before this whole nightmare began."

"I know."

The longing in his voice startled her and covering her face with her hand, she sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. "Tony, I'm sorry...it's just that I'm floundering here and you've been there…you handled it."

"No, I didn't," he told her in such a cold manner that he could see she was alarmed for a moment.

"Alright, you put on quite a good show then."

"Yes," he agreed, "we excel at that all right."

Her eyes narrowed at him but desperation or frustration wouldn't let her quit. "You did something, dealt with the impossible. How?"

"Don't ask me that Marlena," he warned her. There wasn't enough light for her to witness the shame he could feel burning his face but he knew that would hardly impede her other senses. She'd feel how suddenly he stiffened up. She'd hear the harshness in his voice too and so he wasn't at all surprised when she got up and stood with her back to him.

The answer she was seeking didn't exist but he knew she didn't want to hear that, anymore than she'd want to hear the atrocious mess he'd made of things in the past. She was already terrified of her feelings. At least she wasn't in denial but it wasn't a situation with clear choices. Before it was over it would get ugly, and that she already knew deep down.

When she finally turned around, her anger still smoldered and her voice matched his for coldness "You want to help but only as long as I don't try to tear down that wall you've built to protect all those dned secrets."

He tried not to notice how desirable she looked, standing near the end of the bed in the starlight. She was a vision, naked and royally pissed off. "Funny, but the Marlena I remember would never think to push someone for information they felt uncomfortable about sharing."

"Oh yes?" Though he didn't think it possible, her eyes blazed even brighter and she glared at him with indignation. "Well, the old Marlena has been pushed to the breaking point, by your father and considering you've had to deal with that situation yourself, I thought you might give me a few pointers."

"If I had them to give, I would."

"Is it because it has something to do with Liz or Anna?" she pressed.

"Marlena, drop it," he said, only just managing not to snap at her as his temper kicked in.

"I can't…I can't do this…" her voice had fallen to a whisper. "How the hell do I do this? " She'd been hanging onto the bedpost and now laid her head up against it. "My god, what if he helped Stefano hurt Roman? What if…if _he_ killed Roman?"

It was a possibility that Tony had already considered but there was no proof. "You lived with him for quite some time as I understand, surely you'd know if he were…"

"Capable of murder?"

Tony nodded.

"Like I knew what Jake was capable of," she pointed out, "and Richard Cates."

"I'd say that's a little different."

"I wouldn't."

An involuntary chuckle escaped Tony's lips. "Now you're just being stubborn."

He saw her knuckles tighten around the bedpost, as though to keep herself from lashing out. "I'm a psychiatrist Tony, I'm supposed to be able to recognize the signs, recognize this kind of behavior in people, so I can help them."

"Well my dear, there is a difference between being a doctor and being God."

Her eyes lit up again, "This is not…"

"A joke," he interrupted without ceremony. "And you know that I'm the last person who would suggest such a thing." That actually got a look of embarrassment out of her, and he relented. "I did learn one important lesson from my experience."

"Which was?" she asked, with both hope and a certain amount of fear.

"Trying to control the situation didn't work."


	28. Chapter TwentySeven

Place: DiMera Compound

Time: Tony's Memory of 1991

"You look like hell," said Sebastian, setting the tray with Tony's breakfast on the table near the window seat. Sunlight poured into the room. Tony had spent the hour and a half since the sun had risen watching the vast blue expanse of ocean shining beyond the cliffs. It appeared serene but there were whitecaps further out. 

"Thanks," he murmured, rubbing the stubble on his jaw.

"You're not going diving in that condition."

It wasn't a suggestion Tony noted but he was too tired to argue and since he'd planned on making his excuses anyway, decided it was time to spring the rest of his news. "No, you might as well mention it to Rolf and while you're at it, why don't you tell him that I'm not feeling well, and that I'm leaving early."

"Today?" Sebastian eyed him suspiciously. "If you take off now, after only being here a few days, he's going to imagine something is going on."

"Yes well, that's why Rolf and Father make such a good team," said Tony with extreme sarcasm.

"I see."

Tony was certain that he did and knew he could count on Sebastian to feed Rolf's paranoia in increments sufficient to bait the hook and lead Stefano where Tony wanted him to be, and at the right time as they'd already discussed. "I'd appreciate you doing something else for me too."

"If you're expecting me to give the same message to Marlena…"

"I would like you to find a safe place for your family, until this is all over."

Sebastian had turned around in order to pour Tony's coffee but now he stopped. He still had the carafe in his hand but was gazing out the window, probably debating on the easiest way to tell Tony to butt out of his private life, though in the end all he said was, "I'll think about it."

"Okay," said Tony as patiently as he could manage after the previous night, "I'll ask politely. Please do this, even if you feel its completely unnecessary, humor me."

But Sebastian shook his head as he turned to face Tony. "Your father's sense of honor would never allow him to use my family in that way."

"My father has no honor," Tony informed him coldly. "And he'll use any means at his disposal to achieve his goal. He'll use my children if necessary and he'd have no compunction about using your son as well, and your wife."

Doubt settled into Sebastian's eyes and Tony knew that he was fighting a lifetime of experience and tradition, one that Sebastian's own father had drilled into him.

"I know you don't want to believe it," Tony argued in earnest now. "Neither did I. Hell, I even let him sweet talk me back here with one incredible line of bull after everything that happened but there isn't a day that goes by when I haven't discovered new reasons convincing me that I should have done this years ago."

Sebastian nodded but didn't say anything and Tony's lips pursed together tightly in frustration.

"You know, he won't surrender without using every means at his disposal and if that means taking prisoners, he will."

Still Sebastian remained silent.

"That could be your wife downstairs," said Tony, jabbing his finger towards the floor. "I knew Marlena's husband. His only crime was having the audacity to put Stefano where he belonged and now, how many years later, it is quite possible that he is still paying for it."

"So is she," murmured Sebastian.

"Yes. Do you truly want to take that risk?"

"What about the risk we'll be running if we make my family disappear all of the sudden? After all, your father won't waste his energy finding proof, he'll need only his perceptions which he already has plenty of after everything Rolf has probably conveyed to this point and then, off go my family for safekeeping." Far more agitated then he was letting on, his eyes bored into Tony's "Stefano doesn't believe in coincidences, and you know that better than anyone."

"Let me worry about my father's perceptions," Tony answered him, a steady, rather disturbing expression gleaming in his eyes.

Sebastian frowned, not looking apprehensive really as much as he seemed to be realizing, not for the first time Tony was sure, just how dire the consequences might get, and Tony's guilt surfaced again.

"Sebastian, look, I'm sorry. I realize you had no idea what you were getting into when you contacted me and told me she was here."

"Yes, well…" he turned to finish pouring Tony's coffee and brought it over to the bed, handing it to him with a knowing grin. "Refusing Marlena isn't easy and so I expected you'd help her, but instigating a coup…" he shook his head in amazement, "that I didn't bargain on."

"There's still time to get out of this mess, if you'd rather. I'll find you a haven where Stefano will never find you or be able to touch you…"

"And if I'd known you were going to be insulting me now, I'd have asked Rolf to bring you up your breakfast."

Tony chuckled appreciatively and raised his coffee cup.

"And as for the other…" Sebastian continued, turning back to the table and setting the rest of Tony's breakfast out. "I'll organize something but I'm not going to send them anywhere until we're ready and Stefano is on his way here, otherwise you might as well just tell him what you've got planned right now."

Stifling his objections, Tony kept silent, telling himself it was more than he'd expected in the first place. Sebastian had a sharp, incisive mind, but he could also be obstinate to an extreme, a trait Tony had been thankful for on more than one occasion so it would hardly be fair to complain about it now.

Once he finished laying out Tony's meal, one they both knew Tony hadn't the appetite for, he picked up the tray and asked, "Anything else?"

"Just one thing, I need to see her again, before I take off."

"You'll be needing another diversion then," said Sebastian and he eyed Tony curiously. "I thought you might be leaving after breakfast."

"If I'm not in a condition to dive, I doubt I'm in any condition to fly that plane either, at least not until I get some sleep."

Sebastian nodded and headed to the door. "Of course." His tone was carefully controlled but Tony knew him too well and wasn't surprised to see a grin when his profile came into view just as he pulled Tony's door shut.

* * *

He'd been dreaming. He couldn't remember what it was about except that it wasn't good because his heart was already pounding when he woke with a start to find Sebastian's hand on his shoulder, shaking him. His friend's other hand hovered at his lips, warning Tony to keep his voice low.

"What?" he asked, feeling the blood beating in his ears.

"It's the twins," Sebastian told him grimly, "they're gone."

Wide-awake now, he didn't bother to grab his robe as he jumped up and headed into the bathroom, furious with himself for not anticipating this move. He'd purposely begun to slip information to people, knowing it would get back to Stefano, though not enough to bring this on, or lead his father here just yet…but it had and if Stefano felt the need to move the twins, Tony knew Marlena would be next. In fact, he might have only a matter of days.

When he came out, he found his clothes already laid out on the bed and Sebastian collecting the remnants of his breakfast and setting them one by one onto a tray. "Marlena, does she know yet?"

Sebastian nodded, but continued what he was doing without any further comment, leaving Tony fearing the worst.

"That bad?"

Sebastian turned and faced him with a strange glint in his eye. "She had to be sedated."

"Had to be?" Tony's anger must have shown because Sebastian checked his urge to laugh.

"I'm not quite sure how as yet, but she managed to break out of the laboratory upstairs and she followed Rolf and Gaston down to the boat."

Tony's eyes widened, and his smile curved sideways. "And?"

"Too bad I didn't have a camera," Sebastian smirked. "Rolf has a couple of scratches down the side of his face that were a breathtaking sight to behold."

Tony had to bite his lip to hold back his laughter and then another thought hit him. "They didn't hurt her, did they?"

"No, I pulled her off…"

"And lived to tell about it…" drawled Tony as his eyebrows shot up. "I'm impressed."

Sebastian's own smile grew wry. "Yeah, so am I. That woman has got a mean right hook."

"What comes from having a cop for a husband, I guess."

"A what?"

"Her husband. He was a policeman."

"Ah yes, she told me about him, and about the rest of your…" but he stopped and quickly turned around to busy himself with wiping off the table.

For a moment Tony was tempted to ask just what Marlena had told Sebastian of Salem but reminded himself this was hardly the time for such a conversation. "So, Rolf didn't use the plane?"

"No, there was a boat docked, the Renee."

Tony's heart skipped a beat. "Stefano's personal yacht."

"Yes, it seems he's taking no chances with his grandchildren," returned Sebastian with a brief but pointed stare in Tony's direction, and Tony clenched his fist shut to keep from throwing the nearest object at hand.

"Did you see him?"

"No, but I was rather busy and Rolf wasn't about to stick around after all of that. He seemed pretty anxious to be gone. By the time I drug her halfway up the path, they were already on their way."

Grabbing his belt off the comforter, Tony squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tension away as he slid the end of belt through the first loop. At least the twins weren't going far. He'd feared Stefano would send them to unknown location, or perhaps one of his numerous South American compounds but not right away apparently which meant all he had to do now was figure out which of the neighboring islands Stefano had chosen.

"You're not worried," Sebastian observed from behind him.

"I believe," said Tony, sitting down on the bed to put his shoes on, "that we could be in luck, but I need you to be ready in a day or two."

Sebastian looked surprised. "But Rolf may not be back that soon."

"I'm afraid he will be. In fact, I'm almost certain he'll be back to collect Marlena and I just hope he doesn't show up before I discover the secrets I need."

"The location of the twins."

He acknowledged Sebastian's assumption with a nod as he finished buttoning his shirt and then as he rolled up his sleeves, added, "There is something else too. Another piece of information I need to find before I can send her home."

"Regarding her husband."

Tony twisted around on the bed so he could see Sebastian. "She told you."

"Well, it was pretty obvious that she was upset this morning. She looked in even worse shape than you did."

With a chuckle, Tony said, "I hope you didn't tell her that."

And Sebastian smiled back a bit nervously. "If I had, I probably would have ended up with a pair of gashes in my face to match the ones she bestowed upon Rolf."

The picture in his mind of Marlena raking her fingernails across the good doctor's face generated a degree of satisfaction Tony hadn't experienced in weeks now. Not as satisfying as getting his own hands around Rolf's neck, but gratifying nonetheless. "I can think of few things that would make Marlena loose her cool like the sight of my father's men stealing her children away but she's pretty understanding otherwise. I think you're safe enough."

"Something I have no intention of taking for granted," Sebastian told him, "not again."

Tony didn't even try to hide his amusement as he turned back to pull on his boots. "Suit yourself."

"So what do you know about him so far?"

"Who?"

"This man, masquerading as her husband…as Roman Brady."

Tony frowned. "Other than the fact he's clever, or has incredible luck, not nearly enough."

"And you haven't told her everything that you do know about him so far, have you?"

There was no hesitation in Sebastian's tone and Tony wasn't sure if he was irritated or thankful that his friend took liberties that no one else had to the nerve to take when they were around him. "No."

"What kind of work did he handle for Stefano?"

"I'm afraid it's more a question of what didn't he do. So far the list is pretty extensive, and frankly the idea of sending her back there knowing that she won't be any safer with him than she is right now…" His voice failed him and Tony found himself unable to verbalize his fears.

"Are you sure that isn't just an excuse," Sebastian asked finally, after several moments of awkward silence and Tony's temper flared instantly but before his fury came spewing out, Sebastian threw up his hand, "Look, I know you don't give a dn about what Stefano or anyone else thinks at this point, but Marlena is a different story, and…"

"Yes," Tony snapped, interrupting him in a way that made it clear he had no intention of discussing it further. "I already know that."

He'd told himself he was doing this for Roman, and Carrie, as well as Marlena, but he knew better than Sebastian how utterly ridiculous that sounded. If he didn't care at all, perhaps it would be easier but the idea of one of his father's minions touching her, manipulating her, maneuvering his way into her heart and her life as he had and sticking her in the middle of this impossible situation made him so angry it terrified him. Worse yet, what if this man was responsible in any manner for her presence here now? How could he send her back under those circumstances simply because of how it would look to her if he didn't, not to mention how the hell he'd explain it to her. Christ, she was in love with the man. And then, there was the matter of what Rolf and Stefano had done today. Her dream of getting back home was the one thing she had left after all of that. "So what do you do, when none of choices at your disposal make one blasted bit of sense?" He hadn't meant to say it aloud and was surprised when he got an answer.

"Pray."

Tony's head jerked around to find Sebastian looking back at him and Tony could see he was serious. "You're starting to sound like Marlena."

"And you, my friend, are even more cynical than I remember. I would have thought you might have learned more from being locked up all those months."

"Oh, I learned all right," said Tony, fully aware of how cold his voice sounded. "And if I'd taken it to heart sooner, I wouldn't be in this hellish predicament, and neither would that woman downstairs."

"Tony…" said his friend, shaking his head and gazing back at him evenly. "If you're going to start blaming yourself for how you feel about the man, you'll drive yourself crazy."

His words touched deep, into a place Tony had done his best to seal away because the pain was simply too unbearable. "Crazy," he informed Sebastian, "has had its appeal on more occasions than I care to remember, but I don't seem be cut out for it. Apparently I haven't the talent."

"That or you just haven't been pushed far enough as yet."

"A cheerful thought," Tony shot back, dryly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Tony's stare was hard and it glared momentarily but broke at about the same time the corner of Sebastian's mouth began to quiver trying to hold back his own laughter. "Don't you dare say it," Tony warned him, knowing full well he was about to be reminded of but Sebastian was beyond saying anything. He'd grabbed onto the back of a chair and slid down onto the seat as memories brought laughter bubbling out and in a matter of seconds, both of them were doubled over.

"You…" Sebastian choked trying to catch his breath, "Lord, I nearly peed my pants that night. I still don't know how you managed to talk that policeman into letting us go and of all the places to pull a stunt like that."

"What, Turkey is a perfectly civilized country."

"The hell it is. You obviously haven't been on the inside of one of their prisons."

But Tony's smirk was humorless, along with his eyes. "I've seen enough."

"Well, if that's not your idea of crazy…"

"Oh? And just who the hell was it that decided we could get the information without simply paying the man off in the first place, in which case, that stunt as you so blithely put it, wouldn't have been necessary."

Sebastian didn't argue the point though his smile thinned considerably as he shook his head at Tony. "So, how did you do it?"

"What?"

"Bribe the policeman into ignoring the obvious."

"I didn't bribe him…exactly," and he shrugged. "I hardly had anything left to bribe him with after that little fiasco, but as it happened, the family name has it uses, on occasion.

"In other words, you blackmailed him."

"No, I offered him…" Tony swallowed, looking almost sheepish, "insurance."

A snort of laughter escaped Sebastian. "Something tells me I don't want to know what that means."

"Probably not."

"And I probably shouldn't bother asking you just how a lowly, rather dim-witted police officer chose that precise moment to show up either."

Tony stared at Sebastian, his heart in his mouth suddenly "Oh, dn."

As Sebastian waited with confusion slowly clouding his eyes, Tony leaned over to yank open the bottom drawer of the nightstand and reaching into an ornately carved teak box, pulled out a gun, and then a container that he stopped to check. It held a half-a-dozen clips, all fully loaded. "It was a set up, the police showing up in the bank that night, in Istanbul," he explained to Sebastian curtly, " and so is this."

"A set up…how could it be?

"The policeman was Tazari's cousin."

Sebastian blinked and then demanded, "And just when the hell did you learn that?"

"A few months later, when he showed up in my office to collect his…" Tony hesitated. In the midst of this exchange, he'd already stood up and thrown several items from the top of the nightstand onto a pile on the bed before stepping over to open the closet.

"Reward?" laughed Sebastian, who was starting to get the picture.

"Yes," came the muffled reply from inside the walk-in. "A job working security in one of my companies, but one that he got only after I got the truth out of him about who provided you with the information in the first place, and, the actual location of that blasted safety deposit box."

Sebastian had never questioned where or how Tony had managed to retrieve the number of the Swiss account they'd been tracking for months. For one thing, he knew Tony well enough. The fact he didn't supply the information up front meant he'd done something to get it that was best left where it belonged, in the dark. And even Sebastian had to admit that it hardly mattered. Once he had the account number, he'd been able to recover what was left of his family's treasures, a search he'd inherited from his own father who'd been trying to find it since the end of WWII, and though it wasn't enough to ever restore their life as it had been in his grandfather's day, a little justice was better than none. "So it was Tazari who set it all up." Not sounding shocked, Sebastian wore an expression ever so faintly disgusted when Tony emerged from his closet with his bag and a handful of clothes. "And I walked us right into it," he muttered. From his chair, he watched as Tony slid the box of clips into an outside pocket of his bag and the gun into the back of his jeans. "What are you doing?"

"Stefano moved the twins because he's certain I'll follow, and in my haste, or stupidity, leave Marlena behind."

Sebastian whistled softly. "Yes…and of course, Rolf will be waiting to collect her the minute you're gone."

"I have to admit that I'm awfully dn tempted to let her stay, just for the pleasure of letting her finish off what she started this morning, but I can't risk it. Rolf is liable to bring reinforcements."

"But she's not awake yet."

"In that case," smiled Tony, "I'll carry her and you can take this," he said, tossing Sebastian his bag from across the room.

"Swell," said Sebastian, who shot back a dour looking smile in Tony's direction. "It should make a marvelous screen when the shooting starts."


	29. Chapter TwentyEight

Time: Later that afternoon

Place: Island next to Melaswen (Tony's memory of 1991)

Tony grunted, using his shoulder to give the plane one last shove into the dense foliage bordering the shoreline, the only stretch of land on the island with enough open space for him to land once he'd located his father's yacht on radar. Luckily, it sat moored near an island that was not as isolated as the compound they'd left a few hours earlier. On each side resided two somewhat smaller islands and he'd chosen the first hoping not to alert anyone by flying too close. He'd still have to swim the narrow channel once the sun set and though it certainly would have been easier to find a spot to hide out on the same island where Rolf had taken his children, doing so was far too risky. Tony really had no idea how much of the last two day's events had been orchestrated by Stefano. It was difficult for him to imagine Rolf being allowed to make such a decision without permission but not necessarily impossible. The fact that Stefano trusted the doctor with both Marlena and the twins up to this point spoke volumes to Tony because his father wasn't a man that normally trusted anyone, and so perhaps he'd get lucky and find that Rolf had acted on his intuition, but assuming such a thing where his father was concerned would be terribly foolish.

As to what the hell he'd do once he located the twins, Tony had not the slightest notion, or how he was going to deal with the woman he'd brought along. Marlena would insist on following him tonight. Of that he had no doubt.

Opening the hatch, he climbed back inside to find her sitting up, shielding her eyes from the glare and squinting as though her head was killing her.

"Here," he said, pulling a bottle of water from the frig tucked into the miniature sized galley and cracking open the top for her. "Can you hold it?"

Gingerly, she nodded, reaching out with a hand.

Minutes ticked by in silence as Marlena drank almost half the bottle without pause and then leaned back into the small alcove, hollowed into the passenger side of the cockpit wall, a sleek but comforting space, lined with paneling and down pillows. "Where are we?" Her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper, and immediately, she had to take another drink to still the coughing fit just uttering these few words generated.

"A few hundred miles east of the compound," he told her as soon as she'd caught her breath.

"I dreamt…" dark lashes fluttered against her pale skin and then she raised them for a brief moment and tilted her head sideways, "that you killed him."

"Who, my father?"

She tried to shake her head but realized instantly that was a mistake. "No. Rolf."

Tony swallowed his laughter with some difficulty. "Isn't there a clinical term for that? Projecting," he teased and instantly warmed inside to find he'd coxed a smile out of her.

"Only if you weren't really interested in killing the snake yourself."

"True enough, " he said, joining her in a smile now, "though I'm rather disappointed that I missed seeing the shot you took at him."

"What are you doing sitting all the way over there?" The demand popped out without any pretext or warning and took her, as much by surprise as it did Tony, who's perplexed look was almost comical and awkwardly, she cleared her throat. "Well, what I meant was…I understand you give a fabulous massage and to be honest, that sounds like it would feel…ah, heavenly right about now."

Not that he minded the idea, but her sudden desire to take advantage of his services had the distinct air of an excuse in order to change the subject. "I do? And who told you such a thing?"

"Anna," she said, with a deadpan expression that almost made him believe she was ticked at him for dragging her out here.

"And here I thought you already knew better than to believe everything Anna told you."

He'd intended it as a joke, but it was one she didn't find it amusing. She stared back at him, luminous eyes that held nothing back now, her disappointment in him more than obvious and when he didn't react or provide an explanation but instead allowed the silence to lengthen, those eyes glared accusingly. "Do you have even the slightest inkling of what you did to her when you left and then, as an excuse, sent that appalling letter?"

"Unfortunately, I do," he returned, meeting her gaze evenly, not at all pleased to be back on this subject once again, and he knew that look. He'd received his share from Alice Horton over the years.

"Then, why won't you at least tell her the truth," Marlena insisted, pleading with him once more "instead of putting her through all of this…this misery she's enduring."

"You'd like her to be where you are right now?" he pointed out, with more harshness than was probably necessary and her eyes lit up.

"That's not a given," she shot back, stung by his abrasive manner, his unwillingness to even consider anyone else's advice about this.

"When you wake up in the middle of a cold and dirty little cell and have to watch the one you love chained up on the floor next to you, you will have earned the right to lecture me about my choices," he told her dryly, "but until that point, I suggest you leave it alone."

He'd not yelled at her, or snapped but his words affected her in a way that his anger had not and he knew that he'd been right about one thing at least. Anna hadn't shared everything.

Her hand dropped from where she'd been using it to rub her forehead and covered her mouth. "Tony…"

It was barely whisper though he could hear the pent up emotion in it and quickly he shook his head. "Please don't," he whispered back.

Round eyes that were too bright searched his face before they turned to look out the window. "I wish…" she began but stopped almost at once. Her graceful profile gleamed as sunlight slipped into the windows from between the giant tropical leaves keeping the plane hidden, but he was familiar enough with that face to recognize how carefully she held herself, as though she was conscious of what the wrong word might do. "Anna had quite a talent covering up that side of her character, except when she was around you."

That made Tony want to burst out laughing, but he controlled the urge because frankly he didn't want to discuss Anna with her. As much as it hurt, on occasion, he enjoyed the subject, if only because it was his one consolation after everything that was gone and over with but only with certain people, and Marlena was definitely not one of them. She could read him too well. And she was too damn stubborn to let up on her romantic notions and he knew just how susceptible he was to those, especially where Anna was concerned, so instead of answering her, he got up and stuck his head into the cockpit once more to check the radar but the boat hadn't changed position.

"Why did you bring me along?"

She didn't really sound all that curious and Tony suspected she was floundering, trying to find a safe subject. "Well, I did consider leaving you there. I figured you'd probably like another crack at Rolf but I need him in once piece, at least for the moment and since you said that you wanted to go home, I took the liberty."

"My…thank you."

He could hear her amusement now. "No problem." And at that understatement, she laughed, a sound that was delightfully husky and appreciative.

"And now?"

"Now…" he stalled, not ready to begin arguing with her about their immediate future.

"Yes, now," she laughed back. "I'm assuming we're here because you followed Rolf."

"Naturally," he said, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

Hesitating, she waited for him to continue but not for long. "And do you have a plan you'd like to share with me?"

"Not particularly, no."

Silence greeted this remark and though he didn't turn around to witness it, he had no difficulty imagining the sight of her rolling her eyes in disgust. "Does that mean you want me to guess," she asked, a hint of irritation in her voice, "or make up my own?"

"That means," he said, throwing a switch on the control panel that shut off access to the fuel tanks, "we're going to wait."

"For what?"

"To see if I was right," he said, turning back to face her at last. "About why they moved the twins first, instead of you."

Marlena had wrapped her arms around her body as though she was cold, which considering the humidity, and the temperature outside, probably had something to do with her fears. "I don't understand why they didn't just take all three of us…" Her eyes danced nervously before she squeezed them shut at the thought of where she could be at this precise moment if things were different, "why leave me there at all? And why use a boat?"

"I hope that was meant to be rhetorical because I'm afraid, like you, Marlena" he told her dryly, "I have far more questions than answers."

"But you do have a theory," she pointed out.

And Tony shrugged. "Several."

"Oh, for God's sake Tony, stop with this silly, childish game."

Tony stood quietly as she scolded him and then slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers again. "You don't trust me."

"No," Marlena sat back, folding her arms across her chest. "The problem is, I do trust you," she told him. "I trust," and her eyes gleamed at him with that charming mixture of naiveté and determination, "that you're going to do what takes to keep me on this plane so that I'm unable to follow you where ever the hell it is you're going once it gets dark."

He bit his lip to keep himself from reacting to the black humor of the situation. "Very perceptive, my dear."

"Tony…" but she stopped abruptly, realizing probably that this tack wasn't getting her anywhere and with a slight grimace, pasted a smile on her face. "What are you waiting for Rolf to do, exactly?"

Damn, she was stubborn he sighed to himself and he swore under his breath at the necessity of dragging her here and now having to find a way to keep her safe. As though she was really going to allow him to do that. "I pretty sure he'll head back to the compound."

"Back?"

"He's holding off to give me enough time to leave and follow him on some wild goose chase leading nowhere, while he returns to the compound, for you."

Her chin pulled up just slightly. "But Rolf wouldn't leave the twins unless…" She grew very still as her imagination sent her down a terrifying road and he could see her fingers gripping her arms so tightly, he figured she'd end up with bruises later on. "Of course," she muttered, more to herself that to him, "he delivered them to Stefano."

"Possibly."

But his skepticism didn't sway Marlena who was barely keeping her panic in check and had to be frantic beneath the façade she'd managed so far. "Stefano doesn't delegate that way, especially when it comes to his grandchildren."

"That doesn't mean Rolf isn't capable of screwing up the situation on his own," Tony said, leaning against the doorway of the cockpit.

"Come on Tony, Stefano doesn't keep people around for long if they do things like that."

"Well, not unless they have other talents, but point is that Stefano may not be aware that Rolf has altered his plans yet."

Marlena studied his face carefully. "Why?"

"Well, for one thing he was in Hong Kong as of a few hours ago," Tony explained to her with a shrug. "I checked."

"That doesn't exactly put him out of the loop."

"No, but this deal is one my father has been working on for quite some time and short of me, or someone else making an attempt to physically take you and twins from the compound, I think it unlikely that Rolf would have the nerve to interrupt Stefano's meeting and then have to explain that its is merely because he is suspicious of my behavior."

"Unless…" Marlena's mouth twitched as she tried to hold it a straight line, "he has proof."

Tony swallowed uncomfortably and looked away. "If Rolf could prove anything concrete, I'd already be locked up."

That observation put a damper on the argument and when he finally glanced over at her, found she was sitting with her head buried in her hands. Wanting to kick himself, he sat down on the cushions next to her and hoping that his fingers didn't feel as cold as the rest of him, began working the tension out of her neck.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"No, I'm the one who ought to apologize," he said, dropping a light kiss on her shoulder. "I'm just not much of an optimist."

He heard a small whimper escape her lips that was probably supposed to be laughter. "Yes you are, though you're certainly the most cynical one I've ever met."

"Not the ideal combination."

"I don't know," she said in an airy manner, trying to cover the lingering unease and awkwardness. "It's kept you alive so far," and her hand reached up to caress the one kneading her shoulder. He leaned over and kissed her fingers before they slipped back into her lap.

"So," she began again after they'd sat in reasonably companionable silence for a moment, "you believe he trusts Rolf to such a degree that Rolf would feel free to make serious decisions in his absence."

"I can't be positive but how often have you had to deal with my father's company since you arrived at the compound?"

At that supposition, she actually did turn around and roll her eyes at him. "Just once was too often as you very well know, but I see your point."

Tony's reply came out a hair too quick. "Good."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Reason?" His fingers worked their way up through her hairline, "for what?"

"I don't know how to put this delicately," she began, "but you know Stefano, and surely you don't believe that simply because he's made no show of paying attention to the situation that it means he's unaware of every single detail, of all the time you spent at the compound, and why. He's got to be suspicious already."

"And so you think that he's set a trap."

He could tell that she found the idea unnerving and well she ought to. "Look Tony, I didn't mean to suggest that you'd ignore something so…"

"Obvious," he finished for her when the words stuck in her throat. "It's alright. And yes, I know that is one of the possibilities here, but something keeps nagging me about Rolf's behavior lately. I can't put my finger on it, but…" the right words to explain his misgivings hung just out of reach, as did any solid evidence to convince her that he wasn't nuts and blindly dragging her into an elaborate snare designed by Stefano. All he had was a hunch, but Tony had learned the hard way about paying attention to the little, seeming unimportant details. He'd done that before and it had cost him dearly but not this time. "Something about what happened this morning is odd."

"In what way?" she asked.

"The way in which it was organized, which was certainly not the way my father would have handled the situation."

She twisted around to grab one the hands still massaging her shoulders and held onto it. "You know, you're right," she told him, her eyes wide, "It was, I don't know…"

The correct word eluded her as well, but now he knew what it was that was wrong about the whole thing. "It was messy," he told her.

"Yes " she agreed, squeezing his hand as her smile broke across her face, and he responded to it with a rather cynical one of his own.

"We both know how Stefano would feel about that."

For the first time in days, she looked hopeful, though he could tell that feeling scared her too but she resisted exposing such a weakness for more than a tiny instant. Lord, was she determined and what on earth was he going to do now?

He'd had plenty of time during the flight earlier to consider how to keep her from getting herself into trouble but it wasn't just tonight he had to worry about. Even if he found the twins waiting, ensconced in some rat hole on the neighboring island, without Rolf, they'd never survive, and he knew Marlena would not leave without them. He'd be forced to do the one thing she'd had more than enough of the past few years, courtesy of Stefano. He'd have to lie to her, temporarily at least. And of course there was a problem of where he'd stash her away until he could determine if it was safe for her to go home. She'd appreciate that even less he knew.

"Tony."

Lifting his head, he eyed her cautiously. She was smiling and wearing that expression of complete faith she managed to convey so easily.

"I know what you're thinking."

She probably did, after all it was the subject they'd danced around since they'd begun this conversation. He took a deep breath and smiled back, charmingly. "The answer is no, Marlena. You are not coming along tonight, absolutely not."

"And who was it complaining about that little matter of trust only a few moments ago?"

"This has nothing to do with trusting you, or vice versa, and you bloody well know it," he told her, his irritability beginning to show.

"Okay, you're right, it doesn't," she snapped. "It has to do with my life and my children…"

"No, our children…"

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine, our children, but you can not simply cut me out of the picture."

He shook his head but still had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop himself from lashing out in anger. "Don't you understand?" he said finally, with as much control over his emotions as he could muster. "I'm trying to keep you alive," and he made some effort to keep the accusation out of his eyes as he looked up now, "so our children will have someone I trust to raise them with love and…and affection, and all the things Stefano doesn't believe in anymore."

"Oh…" That took the wind out of her suddenly and she glanced at him on the verge of tears again.

And he had to look out the window. He could feel his heart racing and a part of him wanted to wipe away her tears and comfort her but that wouldn't help the situation, or change it, so instead they sat in absolute silence as the minutes ticked by, sitting just inches from each other, and he began to feel as though they were both holding their breath, until she spoke up again.

"I'll make you a deal."

"Marlena…"

"No," and her hand was pushing on his shoulder, so that he'd look at her. "Please, just listen."

He leaned back against the wall with his elbow balanced on one knee so that the back of his fingers were resting alongside his nose and across his mouth. Only his eyes remained visible to her.

Rather nervously she bit her lip, and then, "I've had time to think about what you told me, a…about Roman."

"About Roman, or his double?"

"Both, but mainly the one I've been living...the one that came back." For just a second she met his steady gaze. "I know you haven't told me all the things you learned about him, and I…" He could see her holding her breath now. "You believe Stefano sent him to Salem on purpose, as another way to get his hands on me."

"Don't you?"

"God, I…" But this was too much pressure, even for her. "I don't know."

In a quiet, sympathetic way, his eyes gleamed at her, watching as she tried to hide from the stark possibilities. "I think you do."

"Let me come with you tonight."

He opened his mouth to refuse but she rushed to finish. "If we don't find any information that exonerates him or proves him trustworthy, I'll wait. I won't go home right away, and you won't have to drug me to get me to behave, when it comes to him or the twins."

Tony dropped his head down until his hand completely covered his eyes. She had it all figured out of course. How could she not after this many years as his father's most honored guest. Suddenly he was shaking with laughter. "That's not a deal, for Christ's sake. That's blackmail."

She looked at him matter-a-factly. "Yes, I know."

"Marlena…"

"Please, I can't just sit here waiting, not knowing if you're even going to be coming back and then what the hell would I do?"

"Of course I'll be back."

"You can't guarantee that."

She was right. Worse yet, she knew she was right and that he'd recognize the fact.

"Tell me something," he said, wearing dry, suspicious smile.

She waited, sitting calmly with such a convincing air of innocence and Tony chuckled.

"I'm truly curious how Roman ever managed to keep you alive all those months he was running from Andre because woman, you aren't just stubborn," and his eyes grew larger and bored into hers, "you're downright impossible…"

Her mouth thinned and she went to turn away but he continued on anyway. "And you don't do so hot when it comes to letting someone else help you. I understand that's a typical failing of most doctors but…"

"Analyzing me isn't going to fix this mess. If it makes you feel better, fine but we're wasting time here."

Tony glanced out the window and then back. "We've got plenty of that."

"Not if you're going to teach me enough to get me across that channel tonight."

Laughing, he shook his head. "Let me guess., you've never been diving before."

She flashed him a winning smile. "Just a little, but I'm a quick study."

"Yes," he murmured, brushing his fingers along her cheek, "I know, I've heard about your exploits in the kitchen."

Bristling some at that comment, she said, "So, I'm not domestic, but I…"

"Fine, fine," he said, reaching over to stop her mouth with a kiss. "I'll teach you," he told her, taking hold of her chin and lifting it just enough to gain her undivided attention. "On one condition."

She waited, with less bravado this time.

"You are going to promise me, swear that you will follow my directions tonight without question, and when I give them to you. Agreed?"

Her gaze warred with his momentarily and he could tell she was fighting her impulses but after a few long, drawn out seconds, she nodded. "Yes, you have my word."


	30. Chapter TwentyNine

Place: Melaswen

Time: Tony's memories of 1991

Though he really had no idea how, they'd both made it across the channel in one piece; no sharks or other surprises, except an overly friendly porpoise that gave Marlena quite a fright at first glance. She'd also managed to swim most of the way on her own so that he'd only had to help her when they reached the surf that lead them up to a rocky coastline.

"Don't any of these islands have beaches with sand?"

Tony shrugged, busy trying to haul the tanks past the lava without puncturing either of them or falling and breaking his leg in the dark. She had the flashlights, but she wasn't doing much of a job of giving him a path to follow.

"I have no idea. I haven't been here before and would you mind putting off the sightseeing till another time before I trip on this stuff?"

"Oh, sorry." The beam shot in front of his feet and led him up into a trio of palms, whose giant fronds swayed out over the water.

The breeze felt deliciously refreshing as it washed across his face, especially after the exertion and stress of getting this far but the temperature was still humid and trekking through the undergrowth was going to cut them off from the wind, making it most uncomfortable. He just hoped Marlena wasn't squeamish when it came to bugs and spiders and thought to himself that perhaps he should have mentioned it earlier as a way to persuade her to stay behind.

"Make sure you tuck you socks into your wetsuit," he reminded her.

She'd already sat down on one of the tanks and pulled off both fins. "Yes, I haven't forgotten."

"Good because you wouldn't want to end up with one of these next to your skin."

It wasn't one of the larger ones he'd ever seen but fat enough to make an impression on Marlena who made a face at him as he tossed it towards the water.

"I'm allergic to centipede bites."

"Terrific," he griped, sitting down on the tank next to her. "How about spiders?"

"No, but I doubt I've run into any of the ones we'll meet here."

"Next, you'll probably tell me you are allergic to mosquitoes, or better yet, cockroaches."

She laughed, sounding as though she was miffed. "That would be Anna," she told him, stuffing her hair into the hood of her wet suit.

Tony shook his head. "She isn't, to either one."

"She told Carrie she was."

"Yeah, I'll bet she did."

And suddenly both of them were laughing at the absurdity, and the memories.

"I can only imagine Anna out on an island without all the comforts, or should I say, luxuries of home," said Marlena, but then grew quiet, her mind sliding effortlessly along to another scene she'd only heard about though in greater detail, over and over again until it seemed real and far more vivid than many of the things she dealt with in the last few days except for the news Tony had brought her about Roman. So many years had passed since the image of him falling from that cliff clung to the edge of her dreams so that she awakened to it in the morning but Tony's revelation brought it all back, only she didn't just see Bo finding him now, but John too. John lurking in the shadows waiting for Bo to leave and then dragging Roman's body away into the surf.

"Are you ready?"

Tony was standing with his back to her, rearranging things in the pack.

"Yes." Finishing up the last tie on her shoes, she rose to help him cover the tanks with dead fronds, then waited as he slung the pack on his shoulder and looked over at her.

She stood in a patch of moonlight and the wetsuit, nearly a whole size too small for her left little to the imagination so that his eyes trailed down her figure and he smirked devilishly. "It seems such a waste."

"Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "Well, here we are, a beautiful tropical night, lovely moon…"

Laughter escaped her. "Rocky beach."

"Yes, and water instead of champagne, but still a night that has better uses than sneaking through the bushes, hunting down my father and Rolf." He knew he sounded rather disgusted at the prospect of having to waste his time in such a manner.

Marlena shook her head at him. "Tony." And her tone was chiding but Tony was serious.

"Wait until we've crawled through the underbrush for half and hour or so and you might not be so enamored by the adventure of it any longer."

"Beats sitting behind wondering what could be going wrong, or being locked up."

Though she had a point, he was already finding the situation depressing enough and listening to her site one more reason didn't improve his frame of mind any. After all, any time the situation involved Stefano, there didn't seem to be that much difference; being locked up, not being locked up, it was all the same considering the way he manipulated everyone's lives to get his way. Marlena might be free now, but that didn't mean her life would return to the way it had been before Stefano weaseled his way into it.

"Well…since you insist," he grumbled, leading the way into the shadows, "lets get this over with."

An hour later, hot, a bit scratched up and having learned Marlena knew more curse words than he would have thought possible, they reached a clearing in jungle. She didn't even wait for him to pull his pack off before she unzipped the back pocket to retrieve a water bottle and drinking a few swallows, she leaned her head back and splashed some on her face.

"God, that feels good. I thought I was going to suffocate in there."

"That might be one of the more enjoyable parts of this evening," he said, taking the bottle from her hand and drinking the rest in a long swallow.

"Will you stop already?"

To hide his amusement at her growing irritation, he slid the pack off and leaned over to retrieve another bottle. It was nice to see her behaving more like her old self but he found it brought out a side of him he'd become all too familiar with in the last few years, one that took an excessive degree of pleasure baiting anyone trapped in his company.

Mostly it was defense mechanism for dealing with his father, which only became more of a chore as time passed because being stuck as he was in this situation was taking its toll on him, especially since he felt he had no one to blame other than himself and while he sympathized with Marlena's dilemma, he had to admit to being jealous of what awaited her back home…a family. Even if it no longer included Roman, she still had her children as well as the Bradys and the Hortons, eager to welcome her back with open arms.

He didn't have that anymore and the chances of him ever having it grew slimmer with each passing year…unless he managed to put a stop to Stefano here and now but at what cost?

If he took over Stefano's place as the head of the family, it wouldn't be a simple matter of turning it all around. Too many obscure figures existed, carrying out instructions orchestrated by his father, operations that could quite easily bring down the empire Stefano had built, along with his family, crashing it all into ruin.

He brought the bottle up and laid it against his forehead. The coolness helped but still the mood he was in irked him. These morbid thoughts weren't getting them anywhere and now irritated at himself, he cracked open the top and thrust it her direction.

"No thank you."

He took a swig and then a look around the clearing.

"Perhaps I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, " she said from behind him, "but why clear away the vegetation and then leave the space empty?"

Surveying the field, he noticed it wasn't exactly empty. Out in the center, the grass appeared taller, and after he'd stared at it for a bit, realized it wasn't grass, but a patch of ginger or something that looked like white flowers. "I think they're using it as a pad."

"A pad?" She sounded confused.

"As a landing area for a helicopter."

"Oh…so there's a path around somewhere, leading to…"

But he shook his head. "Stay here."

"Tony…" but he turned swiftly with a warning glance to remind her of her promise and then stepped out into the moonlight. He'd made it only halfway across the clearing when he felt the vibration beneath his feet. Not aggressive enough to suggest vehicles approaching but more of a hum he could feel, silent but steady and he knew what it was, or thought he did. Quickly he hurried to the patch in the middle of the field and beamed his light into the center of it, and found a trap door, surrounded by a set of powerful albeit unlit landing lights, the kind used on runways after dark.

A front door. Hardly the ideal place to stage a break-in he thought but obviously there was machinery down there and that meant exhaust vents nearby, as close to the edge of the jungle as possible.

But they'd be difficult to find in the dark with only flashlights.

He glanced back, trying to locate Marlena. Her figure blended right into the shadowy background of the trees and bushes and he was just about to simply wave her over when a spark flickered, the light from the moon catching the metal casing of her flashlight probably. She'd swung around and suddenly he too heard a sound that made his heart stop, the distant whirl of helicopter blades and instinctively began a mad dash to the trees. He motioned to her to get back under cover also but didn't have time to check if she did so. There was no time. If he failed to make it out of the clearing before the beams set into the center of it lit up, or before the helicopter's strobe lights reached him, the game would be over. Adrenalin helped speed him but the field's expanse appeared to stretch out further than he'd remembered and it wasn't smooth and even ground. Bits of low shrubbery, rocks, and pitted lava formed an obstacle course that tripped him up more than once but his luck held long enough to see him beneath the first layer of bushes as a number of powerful beams washed across the field behind him.

A circle of light shot from the center of the field straight into the night sky but there was also an array of floodlights set on poles surrounding the open space, and it lit up the enormous pad with the precision of a stadium.

Cautiously, he crawled out to the edge of where the light faded into the trees and eyed the rim, searching for any sign of her but there was none. She'd gotten out of sight. The roar of the helicopter filled the area, though it was just above the light and so not visible as yet. Tony hesitated. He had the perfect view from this spot. He'd be able to see whoever arrived but he had a good idea already of his host's identity and he couldn't leave her out there on her own. For one thing, he had their only gun, which would be pretty useless if his father got his hands on Marlena first.

He scrambled back and headed in the direction where he'd last seen her at the same time praying she'd stay put. They could easily miss each other if she came looking for him.

As the helicopter settled to the ground, turbulence created from the beat of its long blades blew up dust and dead leaves so that they swirled in his face. Waiting for it to stop would have been the smart thing to do, but he kept moving and almost immediately stumbled over an obstruction in his way.

"Bloody hell," he swore, forgetting himself but with the noise from the helicopter, he needn't have worried. He could barely hear his own voice. Squinting, he moved so that his back was to the gusts still emanating from the field and stared down at his find. A back door. One of the outlets required to keep the air fresh below ground. He was scarcely able to believe his good fortune, not to mention the timing, which seemed almost a sign, or would if he'd believed in such things.

A scant ten minutes later, he found her waiting near the same spot where he'd left her, the bag clutched in her hand and peering around a tall palm in the direction of the helicopter which stood silent on the field now, its engines cooling in the night breeze.

As she heard him approach, her head jerked around and he could see her eyes, wide with fear but still determined and smiling back, he reached out his hand and nodding his head in the direction of his find, motioning for her to follow.

She mouthed the word, "who?" at him as she got closer and he shrugged.

"Stefano, most likely," he whispered back and saw her tense up once more. "Come on, I have a way in," and led her carefully through the tangled bushes and vines to the vent he'd discovered.

Marlena didn't appear all that impressed as she glanced down at the low, rather rusted and banged up sleeve of metal sticking out of the ground. Beyond the first few feet she couldn't see anything when she looked inside. "Where does it lead exactly?"

"A bunker," he explained, "the one he's headed to," and Tony pointed back over his shoulder towards the helicopter and its occupants.

Her eyes followed where his thumb jabbed at a small group of men. She made out Stefano's bulky figure immediately and two others beside him. They were all standing in the bright light so it was easy to make out their features even from this distance. The man next to him she didn't recognize but the other one…

Tony realized after a moment that she'd grown very still and looked up from where he'd been studying their way in to find her staring at the field in horror and he spun around. His father stood near the helicopter, his back to Tony but facing him was a man Tony knew couldn't be alive. He'd watched him die. Watched as he sank beneath the quicksand on an island a hundred miles away. The man was in hell, Tony insisted to himself, except there he was, talking to Stefano as though he'd been expecting him. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, willing the reality he was seeing to go away but it didn't and he swore viciously under his breath. Andre. His mirror image, alive and looking cocky as ever.

A blistering white-hot fury took hold of him and without thinking, he started towards the group until her hand grabbed onto his wetsuit. "No."

He could hear the frantic edge grating in her voice, the panic.

"Tony…"

There was something else he could hear too and turned to find her backing away from him all of the sudden.

She swallowed nervously. Despite her best efforts, there was terror deep in her eyes that shone with a brightness that gave her away. "You are Tony, right?" The last word was barely a whisper, pleading for reassurance.

He opened his mouth to convince her but what the hell could he say? She wasn't Anna. She'd never known Andre well enough to be certain, at least not to the degree Anna had and what else was there? Andre had his face, his fingerprints, even the same damn blood type, and he'd made them all believe the impossible for months on end, and despite learning how easily they'd been fooled, it happened again on the island…so how was he supposed to prove his identity? This was insane, he though, remembering Anna with a gun trained on him, ready to shoot him because she'd believed he was Andre but at least with her, he'd possessed the details he needed, he didn't have that now…or…it occurred to him abruptly, perhaps he did. "You said Anna confided in you after I left."

Her head nodded once, ever so slowly.

"Fine, ask me something."

She leaned her head to one side, looking at him doubtfully

"Anything," he insisted

Seconds ticked by and he began to think Marlena would admit to making up her story as a way to needle him when she blurted out, "Where did you propose?"

"Propose what?"

"You know," and she bit the words out impatiently, "where were you when you asked her to marry you."

He stared back at her and forced himself not to laugh, as her face seemed to be flushed, a condition visible even in the dim shade cast by the trees, thanks to the moon. "Ah yes, well, that would have been in my shower," he told her, his tone dry and with a straight face. Her eyes widened just noticeably and he couldn't hold back his grin any longer. "I suggested that's where we have the wedding too."

She shot him a look, reproving, but thoroughly amused that positively reeked of Alice Horton and he almost forgot himself and laughed out loud.

"Satisfied now?"

"Yes, though to be honest I'm not sure why since I can't say I'd have that much trouble believing I'd get the same response out of your cousin."

That was so insulting he refused to acknowledge it, not even with the snide retort that immediately sprang to mind and whatever good humor he'd felt momentarily was gone, replaced with sight of Andre's face. That murdering bastard, alive and well and chatting with Stefano as though none of the past had ever happened. Though his father's reputation had sunk to a point where nothing could resurrect it for Tony, he'd hung onto at least one consideration, that Stefano had loved Renee but to see him even conversing with the man who'd murdered her in cold blood caused him pain he'd not though possible any longer, as though it were all fresh again. As though he were back in that cell, listening to Andre describe what he'd done in all its gruesome detail. "Damn you both."

"Tony."

He'd turned away from her and so her voice came from behind him now.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it the way it came out. I'd never suggest that you're anything like Andre, that's not what I meant at all."

"Never mind," he told her brusquely, "It's not important." He knew he was being rude to her on purpose but he was still so furious he didn't care. When would he ever learn that being a DiMera meant he was cursed.

"Please don't do that." Her voice was soothing but he could tell she was hurt too.

"And just what the hell do you expect out of me?" Rounding on her, he found her beautiful hazel eyes awash with tears as she gazed across the few feet between them.

"I expect that you care enough about me that you'll forgive my crass stupidity for what it was, fear getting the best of me."

Shit, women never played fair he thought as his guilt kicked in. She'd just managed to insult him and make him feel as though he ought to be the one apologizing and in record speed that would have made Anna green with envy.

"Of course," he managed in petulant tone that didn't seem to fool her in the least.

"It's going to be a very long night if we can't get along."

"Darling, it's going to be a long night period."

And finally she did him the courtesy of losing her temper. "God, you're most bull-headed, arrogant, stubborn…" she pursed her lips and her eyes flashed angrily, "ass I've ever met."

He lavished a charming smile as he nodded his agreement. "Some of my more redeeming qualities, didn't you know."

Anna would have thrown something at him at this point, or even tried to slap him but Marlena actually began giggling helplessly though she quickly covered her mouth to muffle the sound. "I guess I forgot to mention your ego, didn't I?" she finally got out after a minute.

"Yes."

She sucked in a deep breath looked at him with those melting eyes again. "Truce?"

Tony could feel his whole body stiffen up. "Okay but so help me, if I hear even one joke about how much the two of us are alike…"

"You won't," she promised. "It was just that for a second there, I thought…feared…" but she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. "Well, y…you know."

All too well but he figured that remark would certainly not lighten the tension between them any or improve his mood so he kept it to himself. Instead he let his curiosity lure his gaze back out to he field where only one man remained, the pilot, who was pulling a bag from out of the back seat of the helicopter. He set it on the ground and stuck his head back in to search for something else which he found pretty quickly and stuffed into his waistband. Probably a gun. "We need to get down there and find out what the hell is going on," he told her as the implications of the situation began to fully sink in. Their children were trapped down in that bunker…with a serial killer.


	31. Chapter Thirty

Place: Melaswen

Time: Tony's memories of 1991

"As you can see Uncle, they're both perfectly fine." Andre's tone held only a touch of sarcastic insolence, enough to be noticeable but in such a wily manner that it could easily be mistaken for something else if Tony hadn't known his cousin so well. And being that it was apparent to him, he couldn't conceive of Stefano missing it.

The panic that had gripped Tony after discovering Andre alive up in the field had diminished somewhat, now that they'd located the right room, and he crept forward inside the cramped air duct, moving past the rectangular screen that glowed with a fair amount of light as he made his way carefully to the far side. Marlena was behind him. They left their boots and pack, and everything except his gun and a small flashlight at the bottom of the shaft they'd dropped into, the one they'd discovered which led them into an elaborate cooling system designed to keep the bunker's air breathable. Even from back there, half the length of the field away, they could hear the distant echo of voices that carried easily, resounding through the metal pipes.

And for maybe the first time in his life, Tony appreciated at least one aspect of his father's shady business because the wetsuits he and Marlena wore had been custom made and included elbow, knee and shin pads fabricated for stealth, allowing them to make their way silently through the aluminum casing.

"I'm still waiting for an answer Andre, _what_ are you doing here?"

Stefano's tone was deceptively mild.

"And I thought that would be obvious, Rolf needed assistance and you were, well…busy."

Though unable to see his face, it didn't take much imagination to picture the scowl such an excuse would provoke and he got the impression that Marlena was seeing much the same reaction on Stefano's part.

"Rolf overreacted," replied Stefano with a growl hanging at the edge of his voice, "as usual, and now Tony is no longer merely suspicious…"

But he was almost immediately interrupted by Andre's blatant laughter. "Suspicious? Hell Tony has been playing you for an utter fool for months now."

"I am well aware of what Tony has been doing …_you_ on the other hand…" Stefano's tone was so smooth suddenly that it raised the hair on the back of Tony's neck, "… are up to something."

"The only thing I'm up to is making certain Tony doesn't take off with his kids and a little appreciation on your part wouldn't hurt since I don't really give a damn. Seeing the backend of Tony and his brats would be a relief."

There was silence for a moment, one that felt particularly awkward and Tony heard the click of a lighter followed seconds later by a raucous slap and then a scuffle. Ignoring the fact he could be seen, he leaned over and almost bumped heads with Marlena who glanced at him sheepishly but she didn't back away either. She too was anxious to see what was going on.

As he searched the room, he could hear Andre struggling. The sight that met his eyes as he pinpointed them near the door didn't surprise Tony any, and a wild thought took hold…that he might have the pleasure of watching his father snap Andre's neck in two. The idea made his hands itch. He ought to be the one down there with his fingers stretched around Andre's throat, squeezing it slowly until his cousin's face turned pasty and the fool began blubbering, but unfortunately, murder wasn't what Stefano had in mind and he loosened his hold on Andre's neck. Instead of strangling him, Stefano grabbed Andre's shirt and shoved the shorter man up against the wall, his fist ripping the fabric of the thin tank top his nephew had on.

Andre was alarmed but not nearly as much as he should have been. "Tony knows about John," he informed Stefano with relish.

And Tony's heart skipped a couple of beats. Had Andre been at the compound or only heard this from Rolf? Gingerly he turned and found Marlena eyes riveted on him and from the alarm frozen in their depths, knew she suspected the same thing, that her room must have contained hidden surveillance equipment. He wasn't pleased with the idea of the show they'd put on, though not because of his cousin, or his father, but Roman…Roman who was already going to have to face the fact his wife accepted an imposter into her bed and who would do his damnedest to understand but be hurt all the same…that was if he was alive.

Still there were small favors to be grateful for, like not discussing his plans regarding Rolf when they were in there.

"Knows what, exactly?" The words dripped from Stefano's lips and they were a lethal threat as he jerked Andre's body closer, until they were separated by a mere matter of inches. Andre looked nervous but not all that afraid and that made Tony nervous because though his cousin was arrogant, he'd never challenge Stefano face to face.

"Knows he's not Roman Brady."

"If he learned this piece of information from you…" Stefano didn't need to finish but even this didn't faze his nephew.

"Of course not." Andre fired back in disgust.

It was obvious that Stefano didn't believe him. He did however toss Andre aside, the loathing he felt registering clearly on his face. Andre made an effort to smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt, nervously fingering the spot that was ripped open and all the time eyeing Stefano, measuring his mood and that sent more warning signals blaring in the back of Tony's mind.

"If not from you, then just how the hell did he manage to find out?"

"As I've told you before, many times in fact, there are weak links in your organization, people who drivel on in Tony's presence and will give him the information he's seeking or practically anything else he asks of them."

Tony could see Stefano shaking his head. "Rubbish."

"Then I guess you'd rather I'd allowed the little rat to get away with snitching."

Stefano turned slightly so that Tony had a better view of his face and saw his eyes narrow suspiciously but the fury burning in them didn't register as the impact of his cousin's words hit home. The 'little rat' Andre referred to was all of eighteen, and the grandson of his mother's rather amusing maid who'd spoiled Tony shamelessly during the time when he and Daphne had lived in Stefano's household, but there was no possible way Andre could know what the boy had divulged unless...

In a daze, Tony leaned back, bumping his head on the metal siding that curved behind him at exactly the wrong angle. He felt sick and infuriated…at Andre but even more so at his own stupidity and what it had cost his friend. The kid deserved better than to be used the way he had because Tony knew there was only one way his cousin could know what information had been passed onto him from Roberto…Andre had been the one to provide it in the first place. No longer paying attention to what was going on down in the room below, he shut his eyes, fighting a wave of nausea that threatened to engulf him, squeezing them even tighter and shaking his head angrily when a breathless whisper next to his ear asked if he was alright.

As he should have known, his reaction didn't go over so well.

"Tony…" Marlena was practically hissing at him and he grabbed her arm and clapped his other hand over her mouth.

She tried to yank her arm away but he only tightened his grip, and glared at her, letting his eyes drift to the screen after a moment and then dart back again, pointedly.

But the reminder made no impression. Instead her eyes spit fire back at him. She was as angry as he'd ever seen her but he held on, just as furious at her for insisting on coming in the first place and putting herself in jeopardy the way she was, and furious at himself for allowing it. The thought that she could easily get herself killed here, with Andre on the loose only made it worse. The entire situation was growing more impossible by the minute but then with no warning and a conscious effort he could literally see, the tension in her body relaxed in tiny increments and she leaned back next to the screen. The look on her face was still defiant but there was a hint of guilt there too and he let go of her arm.

Swallowing carefully she glanced over at the screen where it was suddenly quiet. Way too quiet in fact. Her eyes began to widen as they heard the sound of footsteps growing closer to their side of the room and Tony did his best to keep a reign on the urge he felt to vent his sarcasm at the entire situation.

"We had an agreement Andre, so you'd better pray that Tony knows nothing more about John than you've told me." The sound of Stefano's voice was so close, Tony could hear the silky menace lingering in his business like tone.

"You think I'd risk loosing Kate?"

There was a pause, just long enough to make it plain that his father wasn't buying Andre's less than convincing performance. "If it meant sending Tony after John, yes, I do."

"That's ridiculous…"

And Tony heard a snort of disgust escape Stefano but Andre pressed ahead anyway.

"Why the hell would I bother since you've already set everything into motion and all I have to do is sit back and enjoy the show."

Tony could feel Marlena's eyes burning into him as the sound of his cousin's words hit home. Who on earth was this man who believed himself to be Roman Brady and why would Andre or Stefano believe he'd care?

"Don't make the mistake of playing me for a fool," Stefano snarled. "You've made it abundantly clear that you want the two of them to learn everything about what happened that day."

"You bet I do." Andre's rage came lashing with such hatred that it shocked even Tony. "But as you said, we have a deal…I get my life back, along with Kate, and I let you take care of Daphne's bastards."

And for one infinite second, Tony's reality shifted dangerously near to the brink of a precipice where everything he though he knew about his life evaporated into thin air. Lies, it had been nothing but lies…every syllable his father… no…Stefano had uttered, every single promise, every plea begging Tony's forgiveness, nothing but lies to draw him back into his web where Tony could be manipulated all that much easier.

Tony face burned with humiliation at the thought and he could feel the blood pounding in his ears.

"I want to hear from you how Roberto learned about John," demanded Stefano after only a moment of silence.

"And how the hell would I know?"

"Because you told him, didn't you?" Stefano accused, without any question in his voice but Andre kept his cool.

"Prove it."

"There are very few people left at the estate privy to information about John, and I know exactly who they are, not a single one of whom would dare reveal that secret to a child, especially one as volatile as Roberto, so I'll give you one more opportunity…" now the menace in Stefano's tone hung in the air, clearly a challenge, "how did he find out?

"Did it ever occur to you that he might have learned the secret from his grandmother?"

Though Tony had no doubt it had, Stefano remained silent. Daphne had never even hinted in Tony's presence that she'd had another child but she'd doted upon Evangeline, and once he'd learned about his mother's affair with Enrico, Tony had suspected the witty and buxom maid of aiding Daphne, helping her set up secret trysts in a way that kept the affair from Stefano until after Daphne managed to flee the country with Tony. Was it possible his mother had been pregnant at the time?

"The fact the boy didn't know, that she hadn't told him is the only thing that kept him alive after I learned how she aided Daphne in her treachery," Stefano informed his nephew, and once again Tony could feel that atmosphere in the room near the flash point.

"So she made you believe," came Andre's smooth reply and despite the emotions he was experiencing, Tony had to admit his cousin seemed to have learned from at least a few of his mistakes. He'd either done his homework more thoroughly than in the past, or he'd finally learned the art of bluffing. "No doubt she'd have said anything to convince you of his ignorance before you had Rolf kill her."

There was a short pause, and then, "Would you mind repeating that?" The tone in Stefano's voice has a deceiving air of nonchalance about it so that Tony thought Andre might let his guard down and ignore the danger signals lurking like hidden barbs.

"You heard me," came the reply and Tony could tell his cousin wasn't aware of the trouble he was in until Stefano pointed it out.

"Rolf, you said."

Andre's voice failed him suddenly.

"That _is_ what you said, am I correct?"

Without a second's hesitation, Tony heard Andre scrambling out of Stefano's reach and figuring both were too busy to be worried about being overheard, he risked another look down into the room just in time to see Stefano pull a small revolver out of his pocket and aim it at Andre's head. "Back away," he growled at his nephew who'd made it to the other side of a set of baby cribs where the twins slept peacefully, obvious to the danger they were in. Next to him, Marlena stifled a whimper and he could feel her body stiffen up as she held her breath.

Andre was too close to the cribs, near enough to reach at least one of them, but before he could act, Stefano pulled the trigger. The sound echoed explosively off the concrete walls, making Tony's ears ring and searching quickly, he found his cousin was down, legs sticking out on the floor from behind his son's crib. Stefano walked over nudged the man's foot before he checked the baby monitors and then each of the children in turn. With one more glance down at his nephew's body, he shook his head in disgust and strode from the room.

It was then that Tony realized Marlena's head was on his shoulder and her breathing was uneven. Carefully he helped her sit back against the metal siding, her face white, visible despite the shadows of their environment as it contrasted against the inky blackness of her wetsuit

"They're safe," he mouthed silently, wishing he'd brought one of the water bottles along.

She gave him a slight nod but closed her eyes tightly and slid her hand over them, It was clear she needed time to get a hold of herself, but the sound of glass shattering in the room below put an end to that. Peering down, Tony groaned inwardly as he watched Andre dragging himself to his feet. Blood drenched one side of his face, matting his hair and he was not looking in the best of shape, but he was conscious and able to stand. He turned momentarily to glance in the direction of the baby cribs and Tony's heart clenched in his chest. It took all his self-control not to rip the grill off. He could feel Marlena's nails digging into his arm, afraid he was about to do something foolish probably but Andre was having enough trouble staying on his feet. He lurched drunkenly towards the door, making several attempts to open it before succeeding. As he disappeared Tony could see the blood he left smeared on the knob.

The chances of Andre making it out of the bunker alive seemed pretty slim, but he had to admit they did exist and after listening to the conversation, especially the insinuations concerning John, Tony wanted answers, ones he wasn't liable to dig out of Rolf.

Nodding towards their stash, he motioned to Marlena that it was time to leave. She didn't look pleased. For less than half a second, he considered arguing the point but any sound within the metal confines would carry so he started toward the spot they'd entered the system, ignoring her when she tugged on his arm to stop.

She'd probably accuse him of abandonment when they reached the surface though she had little choice but to follow him, and besides, there was no possibility of getting the twins to safety in their current situation. Control of the twins required getting control of Rolf, and perhaps Andre as well.

Once he crawled free of the vent, he lent a hand and pulled her up beside him, only to get shoved backwards and then unceremoniously slapped for his trouble. The hazel eyes that glared at him from only a few feet away burned with volatile fury and heaven knew why, but it amused him on some level and touching the side of his cheek, he gazed at her ruefully.

"I'd ask if that made you feel any better, but obviously not."

"How dare you treat me…"

"Like someone who gave me her word," he threw back at her but she didn't much care for the reminder.

"We can't just leave them down there," she yelled at him, completely forgetting they could be overheard.

"And what would you suggest?"

"I…we…I don't' know." But the admission, far from solving the problem, made her even angrier and he could see her hand curl up into a fist and beginning to feel as though this was an exercise in futility, Tony tried again.

"We're wasting time arguing about this, and Andre could be out there…with the answers we both want."

To his amazement, it worked and her eyes softened though he could see they were also a bit fearful now. "…about John."

Tony nodded and without even blinking an eye, she grabbed his arm and started in the opposite direction from where they'd come ashore.

"Whoa, hold on a second," he said, pulling her back so he could grab his pack still lying near the vent. "We need to be careful and…" he reached around and pulled the gun from his waistband. "I want you to carry this," he said, handing it to her.

Her eyes darted from the weapon up to his face and then back down again. "That's liable to be more of a temptation than I can handle right now."

And Tony laughed. "I trust it will be less of a temptation for you than it will be for me."

"I wouldn't be so sure," she said with a wry smile of her own but she took it anyway. "So, now what?"

"Ah yes, well now my dear…" he took her hand and pointed his flashlight into the jungle towards the southern edge of the island where he knew the yacht was moored. "Its time for Andre to spill his guts."

"Why does it sound as though you mean that literally?"

A humorless grin creased his face. "That all depends on just how talkative he's willing to be because right now, that's the only card he's got left to play with me. And keeping him alive is…" he raised his eyes to meet hers, "insane…"

"But we might have to." Her statement sounded rather tentative.

"For the moment at least, yes."

"But…" she paused and then forced herself to say it. "He must have been the one helping Rolf."

Something in Tony's gut twisted at the thought of the twins alone with that monster, or anywhere near him and he cursed Stefano. After everything Andre had pulled, what the hell was his father thinking…

His father…he heard Andre's voice once more in his head naming him a bastard.

And Stefano hadn't so much as raised an eyebrow.

Knowing he'd be duped was bad enough but Tony knew his pride was the least of their worries because if this was true, Stefano planned on using those children and just the possibilities, especially with Andre involved were chilling. Glancing up, he found Marlena staring at him, waiting expectantly. "You don't have to worry about Rolf," he told her, "he's being taken care of," and a cynical smile spread across his face, "as we speak."

"How?" but then waved her hand to stop him before he could answer. "Sorry, it doesn't matter, but if Rolf is working with Andre…God, I don't understand any of this. Why on earth would Stefano bother with creating the twins if they weren't his grandchildren?"

Tony's face hardened. "I think you know the answer to that just as well as I do."

"Tony…" but he didn't wait to hear her reply. He didn't need to hear his own ghastly fears reiterated over again. What he needed was to get his hands on his cousin and so he took off into the jungle knowing for certain this time that she'd be right behind him.


	32. Chapter ThirtyOne

Place: Melaswen

Time: Tony's memories of 1991

Tony shifted his position in the tree, trying to find a spot away from the branch sticking into his back but one where he still had a view of the path below. Marlena didn't look too comfortable either. She was fidgeting in a tree about twenty feet away, eyeing the ground nervously as she waited. They'd been here for over an hour already without any sign of Andre as yet, which gave Tony too much time to consider all the disagreeable possibilities, too much time to think about Stefano and what he'd done, what he evidently planned on doing in the future to Tony and his… 

But that thought brought him up short. An eerie feeling bordering on shell-shock still clung after listening to Andre and Stefano's conversation and he knew it would take some getting used to, having a brother he couldn't even remember.

According to Andre anyway and since Stefano hadn't argued the point, Tony had to assume that Stefano believed John to be Daphne's son.

But why had his mother kept this from him? To protect him? To protect his brother? Not that it worked apparently and Tony couldn't help but wonder about the identity of John's father as well as the man that Daphne had claimed to be his own. His entire past was so twisted he didn't know what to believe anymore. The lengths Stefano had gone through in order to convince Tony his mother had been mistaken made it difficult for him to accept it all as a lie but so was discounting the conversation he and Marlena had just overheard.

And why the hell would Stefano send John to Salem masquerading as Roman Brady of all people?

None of this made any bloody sense. He could still hear the loathing in Andre's voice at the mention of John's name. He seemed to hate John even more that the usual suspects, if that were possible considering Tony's own past with Andre, and then he remembered the dossier he'd gotten a hold of, the one Andre had provided Tony was pretty certain now, detailing John's activities and the jobs he'd pulled off for Stefano and the picture got a little clearer, and infinitely more degrading. After all, he'd been there and didn't need to imagine what Stefano had done to the man. He knew.

In an effort to take his mind off this distasteful image, he tried focusing on the puzzle of Stefano's motive and thought back to what Marlena had told him about John's sudden appearance in Salem, only a matter of months after Stefano revealed to Tony he was still alive, less than that if he took into account what he'd discovered about the competition that took place between Petrov and Victor Kiriakis in Miami about the time Tony left town. Stefano had lured him back into the family at almost exactly the same moment he'd shuffled John off to Salem and turned him into a Brady.

So what connection did John have to Roman? Or…and Tony grimaced uncomfortably as a new idea occurred to him…had they'd all been fooled completely and it wasn't Roman who was Stefano's ultimate target at all. Perhaps the person Stefano was aiming to persecute was another Brady, one Tony hadn't even considered until now.

What if Stefano's reasons for wanting Tony in Salem in the first place were all a fabrication?

He'd certainly done a convincing job of manipulating events so that it appeared there was no connection, that the Bradys were nothing to him before his arrival in Salem initially but the never-ending supply of secrets in this family was something Tony knew to be a constant and so he couldn't see it as that much of a stretch to suspect his father of having ulterior motives where his old nemesis was concerned because though Stefano had done considerable research into Roman and his career, he'd remained conspicuously silent about Roman's father who just happened to be from Ireland, a quirk of fate not lost on Tony. He was aware that Stefano's parents had died there. Knew too that Andre's father had done some digging into the circumstances surrounding their death before he'd been cut out of the family business.

So could there be a connection and if so, would Stefano taking Shawn's son and deliberately sending an imposter in his place have something to do with a shadowy past that linked both families before either he or Roman or even John were born, one that only Stefano and Shawn were privy to?

As these tiny, rather inconsequential possibilities swirled in his head, he widened his suspicions to include those whose behavior he'd ignored up to this point, such as Victor who'd been raised in Salem, so that Tony hadn't considered his return as anything out of the ordinary, not until Marlena had shared with him that Victor and Caroline Brady had a past together, and a son….one that Shawn had spent years believing to be his. Neither he, nor Bo had taken the news well apparently and Tony could certainly sympathize. Still it hadn't dawned on him until now that Stefano might have a stake in this information.

Hurting Bo would please Stefano since Megan's death but would his father go out of his way do to so?

Reluctantly, he thought back to the past, especially the last year or so in Salem and his father's willingness, not to mention talent and near obsession for creating discord in Roman's life. The lengths he'd gone to had taken even Tony by surprise at the time it all went down and if his father had learned Victor's secret, Tony had no doubt, he'd exploit it to his advantage.

On the other hand, maybe he was being paranoid and Stefano merely wanted to get his hands on Marlena and used John to do it…or worse yet, sent John to Salem as a way of punishing him, to take away what he'd begun to treasure once it finally belonged to him though Tony thought the latter idea farfetched. It seemed rather a lot of trouble merely to cause John pain, even for Stefano.

Somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling this had something to do with the Bradys despite all appearances to the contrary not the least of which was Shawn's total silence in the face of all the havoc Stefano had wrecked. Surely if there were a connection between the two men, Shawn would have told Roman, would have bloody well said something to someone after his son's funeral but Tony's own painful experience had taught him that love of one's family didn't necessarily express itself in the logical way he'd expect. If Shawn were hiding a secret, perhaps he'd though silence would be the best protection, not that it made any sense but neither did sending John to Salem, forcing him to masquerade as Roman.

Trying to figure this out was giving him a headache, and if Tony belonged to any other family, such ideas would have been bizarre to say the least, but not here. To be ensnared in this one meant existing in a constant state of intrigue. Just the simple fact he was still breathing amazed him at times.

Glancing up idly, he let his eyes wander over to Marlena again across the empty space. She'd pulled off her hood finally because of the humidity and it's stickiness, and he could see tresses of golden hair framing her pale face, and then he noticed her eyeing something intently, something near the edge of the jungle and following her line of sight he glimpsed movement, leaves quivering as they settled back into their normal positions behind a dark figure who was making pretty erratic progress Tony realized once he focused in on him. His cousin appeared to be getting weaker, and remarkably, he was not being followed. How he'd managed that Tony didn't need to guess.

Swiftly he shot a look over to Marlena and motioned her to stay put, pausing just long enough to make eye contact before he slipped silently to the ground, keeping behind the tree trunk and out of Andre's sight. The man might be severely injured but Tony had no illusions when it came to his cousin. Andre was deadly, even more so in this condition. His own survival would be the only thing that mattered until the moment when he realized there was no chance of making it, at which point he'd be even more dangerous. Willing to do anything necessary to drag Tony and Marlena into the grave along with him.

Tony could hear the progress he was making through the dense foliage now. Obviously his concerns involved Stefano and reaching the yacht without getting shot again which was fortunate for Tony and his partner, Andre's desperation, or his condition blinded him to any other dangers as of yet.

Risking a glance from around the edge of the tree trunk, Tony was just in time to see Andre emerge from the bushes and trip over what appeared to be a vine in his way. It sent him crashing to the ground face first where he stayed without moving for an endless series of heartbeats. Tony waited, and suddenly his cousin's hand tightened into a fist, digging its way into the dirt so he could drag himself another few inches but just as quickly, it went limp again. Still Tony held back but as the seconds ticked by, Andre lay absolutely still, the fall having dislodged the makeshift bandage he'd tied around his head and Tony could see that the wound continued to bleed freely.

With some effort, he kept his focus from drifting up to the tree where he was tempted to check on Marlena, keeping it aimed instead on his cousin's face as he made it way over to the lifeless form on the ground and nudged him with one foot. No response. Not so much as an involuntary twitch of a finger. Tony used his foot to flip the body over but before he could see it come to rest, Andre's hands came to life, yanking Tony's foot viciously to the side so that he had to twist his body to keep Andre from cracking his ankle and found himself down on the ground with his cousin's arm choking him, but the hold around his neck was tenuous and swinging his elbow into Andre's face was enough to break it. To his surprise, Andre didn't bounce back. After a second he turned to find his cousin on his back, panting, eyes full of hatred, staring up into the barrel of a gun.

"Goddamn it, I warned Rolf not to leave you behind."

Marlena merely smiled down at him, her expression that was wont to be so animated now rigid and frighteningly determined. With a deliberate motion she obviously didn't want him to miss, she released the safety on the gun.

And the complexion of Andre's face paled considerably. "Marlena, you don't want to make that mistake, I guarantee you, I can he…help you…"

"…how? By telling me about Roman?"

Tony knew instantly it wasn't what he cousin had planned at all but as soon as the name escaped her lips, Andre pounced on it. "Yes, I can tell you where he is…"

"I _don't_ believe you." She didn't yell, or snarl at him, simply uttered the comment quietly in a way that left no question as to her opinion of him and his information.

"Tony, tell her for God's sake."

But Tony shrugged. He found himself enjoying the situation exceedingly and he was pretty certain Marlena had no intention of pulling the trigger yet, unless Andre did something stupid which was always entirely possible. Despite the fact Andre might possess information about John, and Stefano's plans, Tony had to admit he'd thoroughly relish every single moment of watching Marlena shoot the man. "If you have something to say, I'd hurry up and spit it out before she looses her temper…again. She's really not in the best of moods this evening."

"Bastard!"

"Apparently so," said Tony, wearing a grin now and he watched with pleasure as his cousin's eyes narrowed, the hatred in them gleaming once more.

"You need me," Andre told him flatly.

Tony glanced up to meet Marlena's gaze and saw that her face was beginning to look strained. "No cousin, that you have rather twisted around because without us, you'll never reach that yacht and if by some miracle you did, the crew would be waiting with instructions at this point and killing all of them in your condition is…well, a long shot."

"You always did underestimate me."

The grin on Tony's face thinned. "Only that annoying ability you have of crawling out of your grave over and over again."

"What's the matter, am I putting a crimp in your social life cousin?"

But Tony was tiring of the game. "Who the hell is John?"

Andre smirked at him. "Not Roman."

Letting his temper get the best of him, Tony sent a sharp kick into Andre's mid section that left him gasping for air. "Screwing with either of us is a mistake," Tony warned him harshly and gestured at Marlena who'd shifted her aim further along Andre's torso straight to his crouch and when he made only the slightest attempt to move, her finger twitched on the trigger.

She smiled sweetly. "We're waiting."

"Go to hell."

The words were barely out of Andre's mouth when the gun fired and he let out a howl of protest and jumped backwards as the bullet sent up a small swirl of dust, burying itself into the ground right between his legs. "Jesus Christ, woman…" he huffed but for the first time all evening, Marlena appeared to be enjoying herself. Either that, or she was putting on an award winning performance.

She waved the barrel at him and shrugged. "I'm a bit rusty."

Andre sent Tony an angry glare. "Giving her that gun, you did that on purpose you son of a bitch," and Tony, whose hand slipped across his forehead, grinned back wickedly.

"Just pretend she's Renee."

For one satisfying instant there was a shadow of fear in the back of Andre's eyes. "And," Tony continued, "if you don't want her to start behaving like your dear departed cousin…well, more than she already is, I suggest you start using that brain of yours if there's anything left of it and talk. How about you begin with why you hate John so much."

Andre scowled but slowly, as though synchronized to a new line of thought, his expression transformed itself into a leer. "You really want to know about John, eh?"

"Yes and I'm getting tired of repeating myself," Tony warned.

"I already provided you all the information I could."

Marlena shook her head. "The loss of blood must be affecting the oxygen you're getting because even you can't be fool enough to think either of us will walk away with that."

"Well," said Andre, still managing to keep the sneer in place, "obviously Tony didn't share the file with that is."

Despite his amusement, Tony's laughter had a grimness to it. "I guess you're right," he told Marlena, before looking back down at his cousin. "Since the file included not a damn thing about any connection you had to John, or the slightest hint of a connection to my mother.

Dead silence greeted this observation.

"Why the stalling Andre? Back in the bunker you made it clear you'd take any opportunity to acquaint me with the truth, so much so, Stefano was worried and now when I offer you the chance, you're balking?"

Andre's eyes narrowed. "Don't say I didn't warn you cousin."

Unsettled at this peculiar warning, Tony's glance flew up to meet Marlena's for the briefest of moments and found his own confusion mirrored in set of her jaw and her frown.

"Your late, lamented children...the set of brats that sent Stefano off and running on this ridiculous quest he's on are not dead simply because of you…care to take a guess on who one of the other responsible parties might be?"

"No." The word burst from Marlena.

Andre leaned back with some difficulty to stare up at her, and though he seemed to be having more of problem breathing now, the look in his eyes still glittered dangerously. "Ah Marlena, here I thought you at least knew Tony better but it seems you're still the same gullible Pollyanna…"

"I'm nor about to discuss Tony with _you _of all people, and as for John, he would never harm a child."

"You have no idea what your husband is capable of, do you…all that time you spent with him in West Virginia taught you nothing."

But Marlena wasn't buying it. "You mean what Stefano forced him to do, after he brainwashed him, most likely."

A strange smile quivered at the corner of Andre's mouth.

"How?" Tony demanded after a brief silence, not really sure that he believed anything his cousin was telling them, sensing there was something missing in this rather odd recital.

Andre shook his head wearily.

"Oh no you don't," snarled Tony, dropping down on his knees and grapping Andre's shirt to yank him upright from where he'd been reclining on his elbows. "You just accused me and my brother of killing _my_ children, so you'd better damn well come up with the details by god or I'll take great pleasure in carving you up in ways that will make you even more inviting for whatever other monsters live on this hellhole."

The threat made Andre grin for a second. "In front of Marlena? Your manners are slipping Tony…"

"So are your lies," Tony spat back.

"Doesn't really matter if you don't believe me," his words were beginning to sound slurred now and in frustration, Tony grabbed on tighter and shook him viciously which brought on a fit of coughing. As quickly as possible, Tony let go to avoid that blood that came spewing from his cousin's mouth.

Tony sat back, shaking his head when the fit subsided finally, "That's not like you at all…in fact the only time you hold back…" and Tony stopped abruptly, his eyes boring into Andre's with a merciless intensity. "That's it, isn't it? You're trying to cover up your own incompetence."

But Andre didn't even blink an eye. "Doesn't change what happened."

"I'm still waiting to hear what the hell that is."

"I told you…"

"No, so far all you've done is insinuate and throw out accusations with not a shred of an explanation, or proof."

"Oh Tony, open your eyes you fool…why do you think Stefano would ruin John?"

"The same reason he's spent years trying to destroy me, Daphne's infidelity so I'll say it one more time, if you expect me to buy that John or I were truly responsible for something in the past I don't even remember, you'd better back it up with some details."

"If proof is what you're looking for, you'll have to go to Stefano."

Tony snorted sarcastically. "Stefano's idea of the truth is even more twisted than yours."

"You don't need to believe…like I said, he's got proof."

"Proof he's done his damnest to hide from me for how many years now? Why?"

Andre tried to answer but had to stop and shut his eyes in an effort to keep unconsciousness at bay for just a few more minutes. "You're not the only one …he…"

The word trailed off into nothing and Andre collapsed backwards, the loss of blood and severity of his injuries finally taking their toll. Marlena made to reach down, to check his pulse but Tony beat her too it, just in case the man was faking once again, which almost incredibly for a change, he wasn't.

Rolling back off his knees to sit on the ground next to Andre's body, Tony wiped the blood from his hand as best he could on a nearby banana leaf.

"You know its all a lie," Marlena said from above him as he continued staring at his cousin's labored attempts to keep breathing.

"Possibly."

"Tony, you know how your father operates…if Andre believes you and John to be responsible you can bet it came straight from Stefano himself, or considering it's Andre, he made it up. He _knows_ how to get to you."

He didn't respond immediately. She was desperate to find an explanation, anything that would make this a lie and he certainly couldn't blame her any. One more relative with murder on his hands, whether he'd done it at Stefano's bidding or not, or even knew what he was doing was the last thing Tony thought he could handle, let alone Andre's other accusation…that he'd also done the unthinkable… something to cause the death of his own children, but wishing it away wouldn't change the facts…if they existed at all. "There is only one constant in this family Marlena," he said, looking up at her now, doing his best to speak past the knot in his throat, the one threatening to make his voice break. "There are _no_ rules."

"And no moratorium on secrets either," she shot back bitterly before turning away.

"Would you rather I lied to you?" he asked her with suddenly no desire to control his anger.

"Oh god, I…I don't know…"

And it was the words themselves more than the helplessness he heard in her voice that hit him like a slap in the face and made him wince. The idea of Marlena wanting to hear anything less than the truth, shocked him. No one knew better than Tony that everyone had their breaking point but he'd never thought about what it would take for Marlena to reach that black place her in her soul where nothing made sense any longer. After Roman died, she'd held it together but now, listening to the possibility that John wasn't the man she believed had shaken her.

Was there nothing sacred anymore? Not a single person in his life that was safe from the destruction his father wrecked on those around him? Or, for the first time in Tony's experience, was Andre right and it was Stefano who'd been trying to fix whatever mess he and his brother had created.

"Tony, look at me."

But Tony shied away from her voice and her touch as she tried to reach out to him.

"Please."

"I'm fine," he growled at her.

Even her laughter had a touch of hysteria in it. "Neither of us are close to being fine right now," and Tony turned an odd stare in her direction. "I think its time we both admitted it, don't you? We're both hanging on by our fingernails here."

"If that's the case, I'm afraid you have a clear edge...Doc." The endearment he'd heard Roman use on countless occasions felt strange on his tongue and came out with more underlying sarcasm then he meant.

"That's not the way it works."

"Bloody terrific," he muttered. "Any other suggestions?"

"Yeah," she practically hissed at him, her impatience slipping through her normally professional demeanor. "How about a reality check here and remembering what a couple of first class liars we just listened to, not to mention what extraordinary performances they've delivered in the past. They made me believe my husband was mentally ill, and a murderer. They made the rest of us think the same of you too. Now, are you honestly going to sit there and tell me that you'd ever do anything to purposely hurt a child?"

"That's not what I'm worried about and no, I don't think it would have been intentional."

Marlena shook her head. "Then I don't understand."

"Don't you think it just a bit convenient that neither John, nor I retain any memories of this particular past we are supposed to share? Stefano went to great lengths, wouldn't you agree?"

"To cover up something yes, but that makes Andre's story a coincidence, not the truth."

"There are no coincidences in this family and that's a lesson I would have thought you'd learned by now."

It was Marlena's turn to look as though she'd been slapped this time. "You believe this…this…" she pointed in disgust at Andre, "vile excuse for a human being?"

"No…"

Though the word hung in the air between then, she didn't actually say it.

"Alright fine, maybe its my pride and I don't expect you to understand because I sure as hell don't and after everything the man has done to me, god knows why I'd question Stefano's motives, but…"

Again she didn't say anything out loud, just nodded when his voice trailed off, unable to verbalize the feelings he didn't want to accept, the pain Stefano could still inflict because they shared a connection neither of them was able to break. Silently Tony wondered if this meant his father's ghost would haunt him once he was finished with his plan. One more unanswered question but so be it. He'd had enough with the soul searching. It was getting them nowhere and wasting precious time. And anyway, they'd found all the answers they were going to get in this godforsaken place.

"Come," he told Marlena, "Its time to go home."

She eyed him questioningly.

"To your husband, and the twins, and Carrie."


	33. Chapter ThirtyTwo

Place: DiMera Compound

Time: February 2003

Kicking another rock from his path, Tony paused at the edge of the cliff overlooking the northern stretch of beach a short distance below him, the expanse of it laying beneath a steep trail cut into crumbling debris left by whatever ancient volcano originally formed the island.

About half way across the thin strand of grayish black sand stood a clump of palms, their trunks arched towards the water. All five along with a gnarled but still magnificent plumaria served as partial shading across the whitewashed stucco of the cottage. It was difficult to see from this vantage the true size of the house, but Tony didn't need a better view. When he arrived, there would be the raised porch that took advantage of the afternoon and evening shade and the soft breezes, complete with its wicker basket chair, the cool, dark interior of the main room inside that served as both living and cooking space, the outdoor shower hidden behind a lattice covered in bright purple bougainvillea that nearly matched the color of the roof. It looked exactly the same. Trouble was, he couldn't conjure up any specific memories of being there.

The last couple of days had proven to be ones of the most profound frustration mixed with hope and at least some satisfaction as Marlena's memories of giving birth came back to her in the tower laboratory. Tony's memory on the other hand had come to a screeching halt.

He desperately wanted to know what had gone wrong after he'd returned to the compound with Marlena and an unconscious Andre in tow, because it was obvious things had not played out as he intended.

Despite the precautions, despite the fact he and Sebastian had Rolf locked away securely, that he'd send Marlena on her way, Stefano pulled some trick out of his bag and turned the tables on all of them but how?

Slowly, he became aware of a figure having emerged from the shade in front of the cottage, carrying a bucket.

Since that first night when he'd met Sebastian's son, the two had not spoken again. The young man stayed out of sight as much as possible. When he did appear, it was never for very long and he seemed to melt out of sight within moments as though he were simply blending into the background. Tony had certainly dealt his share of youngsters who knew how to remain silent and keep their own counsel, but he sensed something different here. This one's reticence was too deliberate…too obvious under the circumstances and once Tony had mentioned Sebastian's name in the midst of that first encounter, the man's reluctance to be anywhere near Tony became more noticeable.

That led Tony to one conclusion; young Sebastian had something to hide.

The slim, dark figure, so much taller than his father set the bucket down next several others at the back end of the house and turned to leave, his eye catching the unfamiliar sight of a visitor high atop the cliff. He didn't wave, or nod…or run thankfully and Tony found him waiting in the chair on the porch when he arrived a good twenty minutes later.

With a gesture reminiscent of his father, he unfolded his long legs and rose from his seat, offering it to Tony, and then quickly ducked into the house without a word, reappearing with a glass of cool water.

Tony, who'd worked up a sweat in the humidity, smiled. "Thank you."

The young man nodded but remained silent.

"I'm here to speak to you because I need answers," said Tony, seeing no reason to beat around the bush.

This brought on some emotion finally and the younger man looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Why me?"

Tony hesitated, but only momentarily. "What happened to your father?"

Young Sebastian sifted his feet, turning his gaze out to the breakers in the distance. "I told you, he passed away."

"When?"

"I was…" he shrugged. "Six years old."

"An accident?" asked Tony hopefully.

Without warning, the young man spun about to confront him. "You know it wasn't any such thing."

Leaning back against the thin cushion, Tony did his best to contain his unease and return a thoughtful gaze. "What makes you say that?"

"The night you arrived…I thought you couldn't remember any of it but you knew exactly where it happened. You were sitting there. You…" Taking a deep breath, his eyes narrowed. "How else could you possibly…"

It was hard to miss the resentment in his voice, and the accusation and Tony thought back to their first encounter as he knelt in front of the massive hearth dominating the living room. His eyes had played tricks on him that night, made him see blood where there was none. "I promise you Sebastian, if I knew any of what took place, I'd have no need to come here and bother you."

Suspicion burned in the dark eyes staring down at him, suspicion, and anger…and buried beneath that, fear.

"Why did you plant the letters for me to find?" Tony asked him.

"I didn't…" the younger man began but then stopped himself with a grimace. "Alright yes, I made certain you'd recover the letters. He…he would have wanted you to have them."

"Who? My father?"

Sebastian shook his head impatiently. "No…mine."

And as he heard the words uttered, Tony could feel his chest tighten and the icy panic he'd experienced the night of his arrival descended so that something deep in his gut twisted with apprehension. "Why?"

A painful frown creased Sebastian's tan face. "Helping you always mattered more to him than…" but he couldn't bring himself to finish the rest of it and Tony was left with the impression the boy blamed his father's death on Tony even if the person directly responsible turned out to be Stefano, as Tony suspected.

"Does my father have any idea that those letters exist?"

"I don't know," the boy answered him simply.

"Then why not bring them to me, why chance my father discovering that you had them all along…"

But Sebastian had already turned to vanish into the house. From where he sat, Tony could hear him rummaging around for barely a matter of a minute or so before he reappeared and stretched out his hand.

In it was a piece of paper. Plain, rather yellowed with age and folded over so that it was only a few inches across and scrawled on top in Tony's handwriting was one word.

Roman.

Hurriedly, Sebastian pressed the paper into Tony's hand and shaking his head apologetically, walked away toward the shore and the water's edge.

Concerned and confused, Tony's eyes followed him but the young man obviously didn't want to let anyone in, least of all Tony. He glanced again at the note. Judging from the writing, he'd been in a hurry, which was understandable under the circumstances, but then turning it over, he almost dropped it. The paper on the front of the note was clean, if rather aged but the back was a dull brown with just enough of hint of red to tell him that it been soaked in blood.


	34. Chapter ThirtyThree

Place: DiMera Jet, Headed back to Salem

Time: February 2003

"Count DiMera, sir."

Tony hit the intercom button in the wall of the cabin beside him. They'd taken off for Salem about thirty minutes before and already reached cruising speed and altitude. "Yes Dave?"

"We're going to be experiencing some turbulence sir, it might be advisable for you to use the seat belt until we get through it."

"Okay, thank you," Tony replied absentmindedly, holding onto the note he'd pried open with care. The paper was brittle at the bottom where the blood had soaked through leaving a line that ran diagonally so that it tore easily as he worked to unfold it but it was still legible, and addressed to Roman, not John.

Of course, he thought John believed himself to be Roman at the time and Tony hadn't been in a position to explain any of it. That was supposed to be Marlena's chore.

"Roman," the note began, "I gave Marlena my word that I'd deliver both of her twins safely home where they belong but we've both had more than enough experience with Stefano and his tricks. I'd feel better knowing the twins were safe regardless of what happens to me. They're located on an island at the coordinates listed below. Sebastian will be available to assist you in whatever way necessary to make sure you recover both children. Tony."

The words swam on the page. He'd been up for too many hours without sleep since he'd arrived at the compound just a matter of days ago and it was beginning to take its toll on him. He knew he wasn't thinking all that clearly, especially when a crazy thought entered his mind…the idea that he was holding the proof he needed that might finally get John off his back but even as it occurred to him, he laughed at the absurdity.

There'd been too much subterfuge over the years and John's suspicions were one of his better-developed senses.

Besides, Tony couldn't seem to get what Andre said to him out of his mind.

His cousin might be insane but he'd also gone to an incredible amount of trouble to set John up for murder in Aremid and since Tony couldn't envision Andre's motives having anything to do with consideration over Stefano or Tony's feelings when it came to John, that left only one possibility, Andre's problem with John was personal…extremely personal.

But how did that tie into his accusations? Far from being upset with any of John's actions that might have led to the death of a pair of children fathered by someone Andre hated as he did his cousin, Tony couldn't help but think, this would be a cause for celebration, something for which Andre would tender his congratulations the way other people offered them on occasions of joy.

Tony sighed, setting the note down on the seat next to him and reached for his drink just as the plane lurched rather violently. His glass tipped and rolled off the smooth wooden surface onto the carpet. Swearing, he undid his seatbelt. The plane bucked sideways this time and then dropped in altitude a good hundred feet, and Tony grabbed onto one of the belts to keep himself from flying off the couch or getting slammed against the wall of the cabin, straining the belt and wrenching his arm in the process. As the turbulence continued bouncing the fuselage about, he tired to strap himself back in. It took several attempts and he'd finally managed to get both sides in hand when another gust shoved the plane sideways and Tony's head hit the corner of the cabin window at just the wrong angle and with a burst of wild colors, everything changed...

He was back, standing at one of the towering arched windows in Marlena's room. It was empty now that he'd sent her off and twilight was falling outside leaving the gray walls around him gloomy, swirling with shadows. He checked his watch. They'd left just over an hour ago, Sebastian piloting the small Cessna kept at the compound for Rolf's use. Tony had rather they'd taken his plane so that there would be no need to stop and refuel but Sebastian insisted. They needed to keep Stefano's suspicions to a minimum when he arrived and if he saw that Tony's plane remained, perhaps he'd mistake it for a sign that everything was proceeding normally.

Perhaps…perhaps not. At this point, Tony didn't think it mattered since he had Rolf, and Marlena was safely on her way home. The only problem that concerned him now involved the twins.

He knew he was taking an awful risk this way. After all, there was nothing stopping him from leaving right now with Rolf, picking up the twins and disappearing. The idea was incredible tempting, but shortsighted. As long as Stefano survived he'd never abandon his game and so be a threat to all of them and Tony didn't like contemplating a life such as that for his children and if he took the twins now, he'd most likely loose his perfect, maybe only opportunity to get to Stefano.

He had to do this…take control and eliminate his fath…no, choking back the bile in his throat, he reminded to himself that this monster was not his father, not his children's grandfather and despite his own fury at yet another betrayal, he was grateful for that at least.

"Tony." The deep voice rumbled behind him at the doorway and he turned to face the man who'd raised him, loved him, then almost overnight, turned on him, tormented and tried to murder him. Stefano stood just inside the doorway, barely visible.

"Father," nodded Tony, doing his best to reign in his bitterness and sarcasm.

Stefano flipped the switch next to the door so that light flooded the room and Tony could see that he'd shut the door behind him and come in alone. There would be men waiting in the passageway, Tony was certain, but he'd deal with them later. Most would simply accept the new regime once the deed was finished.

Flicking his gaze about the room, Stefano's jaw set stubbornly and he shot a piercing look of stone, cold anger at Tony. "Where is she?" The tone of his voice was low with the distinct hint of a growl.

"Gone."

The dark orbs danced furiously and then narrowed at him. "You have no idea what you've done…"

"No you're right, because you saw fit to keep me in the dark about everything," Tony hissed. "Now, why would you do that Stefano?"

His father's expression didn't change.

"You SWORE to me, practically got down on your knees and begged and promised me this was OVER." Tony thundered, giving into his own gut wrenching anger finally. "But here we are," he waved his hand, "all over again. Its like some bloody nightmare I can't seem to escape."

"Everything I've done has been for you, Tony," said Stefano quietly with an air that even now would be convincing if Tony hadn't witnessed the conversation at the bunker a short twelve hours ago.

The words hung between them in the still humidity of the room and Tony, who'd been so certain Stefano could never touch him this way again, never twist the knife in any deeper because Tony knew what he was capable of, had to fight to keep from breaking down. "You care about none of us. Renee's fate proved that but I didn't pay attention as I should have and now…" He had to stop to swallow back the pain. "Never again, Stefano."

"Oh?" Stefano sounded more curious than worried. "And just what, my son, does that mean?"

Tony pulled the gun from his waistband where it had been hidden under his thin jacket and laid the barrel in the palm of his hand and then looked up to meet Stefano's eyes. For an instant, a single sliver of eternity, Tony glimpsed what seemed to be regret before it vanished behind a supremely confident smile and Stefano shook his head.

"You won't do that…you can't"

And Tony smiled back at him sadly. "Well, you can be proud father, because _you_ made this possible…. you're the one who gave me a reason to care enough to stop wasting my life and do something for this family, the one thing I ought to have done long ago."

"Ahhh, but without me, that reason wouldn't exist."

Tony's eyes burned at the thought but he wasn't going to allow Stefano to twist this around. "I don't know what game you're playing now but I do know you don't give a damn about those children, anymore than you give a damn about me."

"You're wrong Tony."

And at the sound of that deep resonance vibrating in his father's voice that he knew to be the truth, Tony snarled back, even angrier than before. "That only makes what you doing that much more perverse."

"You have no idea why this was necessary…."

"And I sure as hell don't want to either," Tony told him, raising his voice enough to drown out Stefano's blatant excuses. He could feel his heart pounding as the two of them glared at each other, unwilling to back down and swallowing past the knot in his throat, Tony lifted the gun and aimed it at Stefano's head. It seemed to weigh more than he remembered. Calmly, he moved the clip into place and released the safety. "I'll pray for your soul. God knows why, after everything you've done, but I will."

"If you pull that trigger, you will loose _everything_ Tony."

"More? My God, what more is there? You've already taken everyone away I loved…my mother, Renee, Anna…even the memory of my children…" Tony's voice broke.

"It was not I that took your children from you."

"And you expect me to believe that after all the years you kept this from me."

"Yes."

Tony just shook his head.

"It's the truth," Stefano insisted in a way that ripped into Tony's soul.

"Your concept of the truth is every bit as twisted and bizarre as my cousin's, so you tell me, just who am I supposed to believe?"

"Oh please," Stefano snorted in disgust and waved his hand at Tony. "Andre? What is it that he has said to you?"

"That the responsibility for their deaths was mine…"

Stefano shook his head vehemently this time.

"…and my brother's," Tony finished.

It was only three simple words, but they hit Stefano quite unexpectedly it seemed. "You don't have a…"

"SHUT UP," roared Tony, a blistering fury taking hold of him. "I know about John, so don't bother with the lies. I don't care about how or why. Hell, I already know why…we both know why, don't we, Father?" The last word came spitting out with all the revulsion swirling in Tony's gut.

"I raised John as my own, with love and I trusted him completely," Stefano informed Tony whose snide laughter bubbled forth.

"Daphne's bastard? What benevolence Stefano. I must say I'm impressed considering how quickly you turned on me as soon as you learned the truth of _my _paternity."

"That was different."

"Well," drawled Tony, "of course. You had your plans for him."

"No."

"Not that it matters because he'll know the truth soon enough."

"Tony, no…you can't do that," began Stefano, moving towards the stairs until Tony's finger began to squeeze the trigger. Stefano froze in his tracks. "Okay, okay," he held up his hand, "tell me what is it you want."

Tony's eye widened. "That's not obvious enough for you?"

"Antony…" Stefano's dark eyes pleaded even as his tone of voice remained demanding. "we can work this out, come to some mutual arrangement. Once you know the truth…"

"We tried that Stefano and judging from what has been going on in this room over the last year or two…" a helpless chuckle escaped him, "oh God, what a fool I was to believe you. As long as you are alive, this is never going to end, is it?"

"I didn't want this anymore than you," his father cried out suddenly, stumbling and reaching out to the banister to support his weight. If this was another of Stefano's performances, Tony had to admit, it was a masterful one and against his better judgment, he waited for the old man to compose himself. Sucking in a deep, shaky breath, Stefano looked up. "If you do this," he told Tony gravely, "you will never have justice for the children you lost, or their mother…"

"More lies…" Tony broke in but Stefano continued on.

"_And_ you will be aiding those who truly were responsible."

"Marlena?" The indignation in his voice effected Stefano as though Tony had slapped him. "And Roman…John? You'll have to forgive me but I'm beginning to loose track of just exactly who I'm supposed to…" he struggled to find the right word, "what, blame?"

Stefano shook his head. "Its much more complicated than that," but Tony had reached his limit.

His finger twitched against the trigger. "I don't think you'd even recognize what the truth is any longer, or care," but at that second the door behind Stefano burst open and Tony shifted his aim quickly to the man who appeared and pulled the trigger. As his body snapped to a halt with the impact of the bullet, a thin stream of blood dripped from the hole in the man's forehead and he dropped face first, sliding halfway down the stone steps. The second face that came through the door made Tony freeze in horror. "No," he mouthed, though no sound came out, his gaze whipping back to Stefano, whose own wide-eyed look of horror was glued to the body of his dead guard.


	35. Chapter ThirtyFour

Time: Tony's memory of 1991

Place: DiMera Compound

An incredulous and stricken gaze worked its way up to Tony's face. Stefano stood aghast, not even bothering to hide the grief welling up as he was forced to accept he'd been wrong but Tony didn't care any longer.

"What in God's name have you done now?"

Standing in the doorway, shy and innocent, his young eyes fixed on Tony was Sebastian's son. A hand lay on the boy's shoulder. Not his mother's but that of a man and Tony found himself staring into Rolf's cold expressionless eyes. Damn it, he thought, how? This was an illusion surely…Rolf was tied up back in the lava tube out on the far side of the island past Sebastian's cottage, and already completely sealed off by the evening tide. He'd checked on the man himself only a short time after Sebastian had taken off. And Sebastian's wife and son had left as well. One of his relatives had arrived to ferry them away to safety, hidden so that they couldn't be used like this.

"Your mother is waiting for you, young man," Stefano said to the boy with such gentleness in his voice that it made Tony cringe. "Tell her she may leave as soon as I notify her that it is safe. Your friend here" he nodded at Rolf, "will come and take you down to the boat."

With a furtive nod of his own, the boy vanished back up the dark passageway.

"Please Tony, put the gun down."

Feeling dazed, Tony realized he still had it pointed directly at Rolf. He swallowed carefully, lowering his arm, but didn't drop the gun or lay it aside. Rolf also nodded and stepped back, closing the door as he left.

"The gun, Tony," said his father, once again.

But Tony shook his head.

"Ahhh yes, I see. You're curious about how I located Rolf. I must say, your plan was nearly perfect and I would never have found him if it hadn't been for the boy."

"He showed you…"

"No, no. Of course he had no idea what he'd find after crawling all the way back into that hole."

Tony locked eyes with his father who remained at the top of the stairs. Despite the attempt at levity in his tone, he looked older, horrendously tired and there was still a spark of bitter disappointment set into the lines of his face.

"The boy was terribly confused…had no desire to go off with his mother, leaving his father behind. Apparently no one explained why this was necessary and being rather sensitive," Stefano gave a slight shrug, "he knew something about the situation was wrong. So he went off to the spot where he was certain he'd find Sebastian and when I arrived on the island, his poor mother was searching for him frantically and…"

"Being the chivalrous scoundrel you are, you felt the need to assist her." Tony's laughter was anything but humorous.

Stefano smiled indulgently. Descending the stairs he strode across the room to stand a couple of feet in front of Tony. "The gun," he said, with his palm stretched out. "Please."

Fighting his urge to fling it across the room or out the window, Tony acquiesced, placing the weapon in Stefano's hand, half expecting to find the barrel of it shoved up to his temple and from the look on Stefano's face, Tony knew he was considering it.

"How could you do this?" The words were spoken quietly but each one carried the sting of betrayal.

And Tony felt his outrage reach the boiling point in record time. "I'm not the one who brought back the despicable piece of garbage that murdered Renee, for Christ's sake, or kept Marlena locked up and experimented on her. And I'm not the one playing god with our lives. How dare you question my motives you miserable old…"

A blinding flash of light exploded in Tony's head as Stefano lashed out with the butt end of the gun, backhanding him with enough force to knock him off his feet. "You will learn respect Antony."

Tony tried to sit up but his vision was blurry. "For you?" He managed a breathless bit of snide laughter.

"You will learn the hard way if necessary," Stefano informed him coldly. "Now, where is Sebastian stopping to refuel the plane?"

Tony remained silent, trying to ignore the searing pain spreading from his temple down every single nerve ending in his cheek.

"If I do not get the location Antony, your friend's wife and child will remain here," and though he had no need to add the threat, he did so anyway, "permanently."

"And if I tell you, there will be men waiting to drag Sebastian and Marlena back here and…" but Tony couldn't finish the sentence.

"Better the guilty," lectured Stefano's deep ringing baritone, "than the innocent."

Still Tony remained stubbornly silent, his eyes squeezed tightly against the inevitable.

"You have my word that no harm with come to Marlena," said Stefano after several tense minutes ticked by with no answer.

"And Sebastian?"

Stefano didn't bother answering Tony's question because there was no escaping the consequences of Sebastian's decisions. "His wife and son will be cared for, I swear that to you."

He'd lost. There was nothing left to do except give Stefano the information. Tony might be willing to shoot his father, but he'd couldn't bring himself to allow Stefano to hurt these two people, not even for Marlena and he was well aware of what his friend would expect out of him. The precautions he'd taken had been for naught and now it was Stefano that held all the cards, he had Rolf and so, control of the twins and could blackmail Tony into anything at this point. "Brownsville," he muttered, the ache and despair in his soul far worse than the pain still drumming violently in his head.

"As soon as I have confirmation they have arrived and are on their way back here, Sebastian's wife and his son may leave."

"And Marlena?" asked Tony, without really any hope.

"Soon."

Tony shot a suspicious glance up at his father who grinned back at him.

"I do believe you've fallen for the woman."

"Oh? And was that the plan all along, Father?" A sneer hung just at the edge of Tony's otherwise flat tone.

"What plan?"

"To get John and I fighting over the same woman."

"I have no desire to hurt you Tony, no deep dark hidden agenda. I told you that..."

Tony leaned back against the bedpost and gingerly lifted his hand to his cheek. "You might as well dispense with this farce Stefano, I know you've lied about everything, including that ridiculous charade of a blood test you pulled off when you tricked me into coming back."

Both of Stefano's eyebrows inched higher. "Sounds to me as though you've been listening to more of your cousin's entertaining and, what was your word…bizarre tales."

"I didn't hear you deny it last night when he called both John and I bastards."

It was rather a strange sensation to watch Stefano, in the process of removing the clip from the gun slowly fumble and drop everything as the implication of Tony's statement swept over him. It was even difficult to tell if he was breathing and his color was not so good. "I'm afraid you must have heard…"

"Wrong?" Tony couldn't help enjoying Stefano's utter confusion.

"You of all people know your cousin's insecurities. He has spent a lifetime resenting the love I bear you, our…relationship."

Tony forgot for a moment the pounding in his head, his laughter a pure mixture of malice and delight. "And who has been responsible for cultivating that jealousy until it burned through and destroyed the one person we cherished the most?"

Unable to face this accusation, Stefano turned his back on Tony.

"You created this beast Stefano and he will devour us all in the end."

"No…" Stefano voice came back stronger now. "No you're wrong. _I_ have control of Andre."

"You," said Tony dismissively, unable to stop himself from driving the knife in a little deeper. "The way you had control of him the night he murdered Renee."

"ENOUGH." The words echoed off the stonewalls and Stefano's temper snapped. Twisting on his heel, he grabbed hold of Tony's shirt and yanked, wrenching him to his feet. "You will refrain from _ever_ mentioning Renee's name in my presence again." The powerful fist pulled the material near his collar even tighter until Tony could feel it begin to choke him and his father hissed, "If you'd just done as I asked of you and left her alone, she'd still be alive, be here with me now."

"No," Tony's eyes glittered. "She never would have accepted you, not like this."

A spark of insane jealousy lit up his father's face, his eyes boring in to Tony's and then, quite suddenly and unexpectedly, Stefano let go of him. "She was never yours."

The way Stefano uttered those words brought Tony up short and he realized he'd missed something obvious here. From the very moment Tony returned to his father's house years before, the man had done his best to orchestrate Tony's life for him, choose the right people for him to associate with, meet, date, even marry but Tony had resisted and it had always been a bone of contention between them until finally Tony had to nerve to fall in love with his sister. As angry as Tony was over Stefano's involvement in her death, Stefano had his own issues with the situation and he'd never forgiven Tony for defying him. In fact, a part of Tony had suspected for some time that Stefano blamed Daphne, not just for the infidelity but for telling Tony the truth about his father so that he felt free to pursue a relationship with Renee and it was a decision that Stefano was hell bent on making him pay for dearly.

"You wanted me to find Marlena, didn't you? In fact," said Tony, gazing at his father suspiciously, "if Sebastian hadn't contacted me, you would have found a way for me to discover it…or…" an icy jolt shook him and he backed up, putting a good deal of space between himself and his father. "You sent Sebastian here on purpose, didn't you?"

"Your imagination is getting the better of you, my boy"

"The hell it is," snarled Tony, now so infuriated now that he completely ignored the warning in his father's expression. "You sick son of bitch, you set this all up, _knowing_ he'd come to me, knowing he's take pity on Marlena and want to help her. Didn't you?" The last two words demanded an answer but Stefano said nothing, which was really all the explanation Tony needed.

"And you'll still punish him for it….punish both of us for doing exactly as you intended all along."

Stefano didn't reply to this accusation either right away. Instead he closed the distance between the two of them, his dark eyes betraying for just a moment his own disillusionment and reached to stoke his son's face tenderly but Tony jerked his head away. That lit a fire in his father's expression. "You could have come to me instead of doing this…" and thick fingers seized Tony's chin, forcing him to look down at the gun where it lay on the floor. "There is no one who wishes more than I do that there was another way, that neither of you had to suffer this way but you've left me no other choice, Tony." He stepped back and for an instant seemed to catch his breath before his face grew hard again. "If you wish to blame someone for Sebastian's fate, I suggest you look in a mirror."

"And my brother, and Marlena and Roman? Who is responsible for their fate," Tony laughter was painful, even to his own ears, "the complete and utter ruin you've made of their lives?"

Idly, Stefano fingered the chain around his neck. "You concern for your brother is touching but completely lost on John I'm afraid."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"He'll betray you Tony, just as you've betrayed me here today."

"Why would he…" Tony's voice trailed off and it felt to him as though entire minutes ticked by, beating along with the blood in his ears as he remembered Andre's words to Stefano from the previous night…'you've already set everything into motion and all I have to do is sit back and enjoy the show'…and Tony flashed a grim smile at his father. "I'm afraid your little ploy is not going to work Stefano. Marlena is not interested in me or," he shrugged, "vice versa."

But Stefano didn't appear concerned. "When have you known me not to be prepared for all contingencies?"

Tony felt sick, literally and figuratively, and wanted nothing more than to tear into this man in front of him who was so bloody determined on getting his pound of flesh that he'd rip his family to shreds over a past that was buried.

"That's what this is about, Daphne deceived you, cheated on you so you're going to make us pay? She's dead," Tony hurled the words back at him in a fury, "isn't that enough for you?"

"For what she did to you and I…no Tony, it will never, EVER be enough."

The rage and sadness in his father's eyes tore away a curtain and everything he'd discovered over the previous few months was illuminated brilliantly in contrast to the rest of Stefano's behavior since he'd returned. And oh God, nothing had changed. He may not be locked up wearing the chains any longer but Stefano wasn't about to quit until he'd seen to it that both of Daphne's sons paid for what she'd done, for making a fool of him. Stefano's pride simply wouldn't allow him to budge so much as an inch. And whatever his feelings for Tony, they'd not get in his way or divert his purpose…his sick obsession, and for the first time, Tony envied his brother who at least wasn't saddled with the knowledge of what was about to happen to his life. "Why…" he struggled to get the words out. "Why Marlena?"

"Surely my son you can figure that out."

Unfortunately Tony could. "She got the best of you and that is a sin you never could live with, from anyone…not even your children."

Stefano shrugged. "You'd rather I'd chosen someone else?"

And his implication sent a chill down Tony's spine. "No." His eyes narrowed, but he did his best to hang onto control of his temper. "I did what you asked of me…I divorced her…stayed away from her on condition that you did the same…"

"And have I not left the lovely Anna be?"

It was impossible to ignore the underlying threat Tony detected beneath the cultured accent and something inside, the ounce of restraint he'd clung to for the sake of his children and both of his friends shattered in a blinding rage at the thought that nothing in his life was safe from this man's insane desire for retribution. He swung around and in one smooth movement, snatched the gun and clip from the floor, fitting the latter into place as he quickly slid backwards out of his father's reach, taking aim at Stefano's chest.

The old man shook his head with a hard look at Tony. "Rolf has his orders…if you shoot me, you'll be condemning_ your_ children."

"And god, what am I doing if I don't?" Tony's voice sounded strange to his own ears, brittle and fierce and hopeless. "Condemning them to a life of being used by you and brainwashed into destroying those they ought to trust and love."

"They will have a father to love…"

"NEVER." The word burst from Tony with raging anguish. "You will not steal these two innocent lives along with everyone else."

"Oh Tony, I'm not stealing anything away from you,_ I_ created them…"

"To manipulate and destroy, yes I know but you don't own them Stefano, nobody owns them and if I have to live with the consequences of making certain that doesn't happen…" Tony had to grit his teeth to the get rest out, "so be it."

"And Marlena…" returned Stefano, wearing a tiny secret smile, "how will you explain an act such as this to her?"

That would be impossible Tony knew but so was the prospect of the future he saw stretched out in front of him if he didn't remove this man from their lives, a future filled by an endless cycle of destruction and hatred…a wasteland. "Living with impossible choices is the one area where I've had no lack of experience, thanks to you, Father."

Tony wasn't certain if it was his words or something else in his demeanor that got through but he could see the realization dawn in Stefano's eyes at exactly the moment his finger pulled the trigger and Stefano hollered Rolf's name but Tony didn't see him fall because at that same moment, he felt a sharp pinch in his side and before he could turn around night descended, crushing him.


	36. Chapter ThirtyFive

Place: DiMera Compound

Time: Tony's Memory of 1991 continued

His eyes refused to open. Not that he truly felt the inclination because just thinking about it made the pounding in the back of his head that much worse which in turn made him more aware of the rest of body, most of which ached fiercely but refused to cooperate. He couldn't even move his hand, and then as he was straining to make just his fingers twitch, something cool wrapped itself across his forehead.

Soon, he felt an arm reach around his back, lifting him and a glass was at his lips. "Just a little now…" but when he tasted the water he realized how thirsty he was, the terrible dryness in his throat consuming him, and he gulped down too much before it vanished and he was forced to suck in needles of air between hacking coughs. After several long drawn out painful moments of this, it subsided and he could breathe normally again, and then the glass reappeared. "Slowly," a deep raspy voice soothed in his ear.

Tony hadn't thought water could taste so incredibly delicious. The last occasion he'd even savored a glass of champagne this much was beyond recall but he did follow the advice murmured so gently and took it slow and steady until every last drop was gone.

"More?"

He tried to nod his head but didn't seem to have any control over that either though the person asking apparently wasn't expecting an answer because he eased Tony back down and disappeared. In vain, Tony made another effort to flex his fingers, to open his eyes. Neither worked, so he satisfied himself with concentrating on the sections that hurt the worst, since he was pretty certain that those were parts that still existed.

He thought back to the last few seconds he could remember, hearing the gun go off just as he lost consciousness. Stefano…where was he?

A cool cloth replaced the one already on his head. Giving it another try, Tony pried his eyes open enough to have to squint as dazzling light immediately flooded in and relieved, he pushed his way up onto one elbow.

"For heaven's sake man, take it slow."

He recognized the voice now. "Sebastian," he croaked in a horse whisper, dreading the news he'd have to give his friend, and wondering…praying he'd removed the threat hanging over both of them. "Is he…"

But Sebastian shushed him.

That only convinced Tony of the worst, making him more agitated. "Damn it, the bastard's alive, isn't he?"

"Tony please…" Sebastian had his hand on Tony's shoulder, pressing down though in the condition he was in, Tony was hardly capable of getting very far.

"What did he do to Marlena?"

Sebastian's head shook once, regretfully. "I don't know for certain. They separated us, though they weren't anywhere near as rough with her…"

Tony reached to grab his friend's arm and began to apologize but the glassy and tortured expression in Sebastian's eyes stopped him.

"Rolf couldn't wait to tell me about my son's unfortunate…" his straight line of his mouth thinned even further, "adventure." He glanced down and then squeezed his eyes shut. "And the worst part is that you…"

"No, I was wrong. It wouldn't have mattered because he played us Sebastian," said Tony, cutting in, "played both of us."

Several deep lines creased Sebastian's forehead. "How?"

"Stefano's objective was for me to find Marlena here and he expected that if he used you as her caretaker, that is what would happen eventually."

"But why? Surely, he had to realize you'd send her home."

A feeling of disgust washed over Tony though it was difficult to ascertain whether it was aimed as much at Stefano as it was at himself. "Stefano knows me rather…well, he assumes"

Sebastian laughed but also shook his head in disbelief. "That still doesn't explain why."

"Marlena didn't tell you about John?" There'd been so little time when Tony and Marlena returned to the compound. Part of him worried that if he dallied, she would change her mind and refuse to leave without the twins and so as soon as he'd gotten Rolf's location from Sebastian, he'd sent them on their way, without disclosing to Sebastian what he and Marlena learned on their excursion.

"Tell me what?"

"The man he sent to impersonate Marlena's husband is Daphne's son, Sebastian, my…" Tony almost choked on the word, "brother."

Sebastian didn't respond to this news immediately but let he gaze drift up the empty bed and then out the window where the morning light was growing stronger, and Tony could see his face tighten as the implications of what Stefano had done began to sink in, especially the utter disregard for Sebastian and his family and his willingness to use anyone just to destroy his son and the man unlucky enough to be born on the wrong side of the sheets to his wife. "All of this insanity is because of your mother?"

Tony signed. "Not entirely. He…" gritting his teeth, Tony sucked in a ragged breath. "wanted to prove a point, make me admit I'd been wrong when I chose someone else instead of the woman he'd chosen for me."

"Marlena?" Sebastian looked at though he wasn't sure how to react.

"It was years ago…hell, a whole other lifetime ago it seems now."

"But if that's what he wanted, why not allow you to find her and then have nature take its course? Why all this nonsense with Rolf?"

But Tony's smile in return was rueful. "That may have been the idea to begin with, though I doubt it… as perverse as it sounds, I think he's no more willing to for me to end up with Marlena at this point than John."

"Or Roman obviously."

Dark, soulful eyes met Sebastian's, eyes full of memories that haunted Tony even after all the years which had passed since his own imprisonment. "If Roman is alive," said Tony in a hard voice, "I shudder to think the hell he's been through because knowing my father, I'm certain the poor man has been forced to watch as someone else convinced all the people who Roman loved that _he_ was actually Roman Brady."

"Just as you were forced to watch your cousin do the same to you."

Tony didn't nod or answer, he didn't need to. Any illusions Sebastian had harbored in regards to Stefano were gone by now. Stefano's behavior was too self-evident. "I fear for Marlena…no matter who she chooses, Roman or my brother, she'll never be allowed a normal life because I suspect Stefano has developed a fancy of his own for her and I can't see her accepting him, or Stefano ever letting go."

To Tony's surprise, and decided unease, Sebastian didn't argue with him and Tony bit his lip.

"So you've noticed it as well."

Sebastian shrugged. "I've noticed that he's…how shall I say…solicitous but why bother with someone who isn't about to come willingly. Your father has never had any trouble when it comes to the ladies…"

"Ah, but it's the untouchable ones that spark his interest," Tony interrupted again, "especially for Stefano. It must be a challenge or his attention will wane, very quickly."

"And it doesn't hurt that she's also beautiful and intelligent."

Cautiously, Tony dragged his body up to lean against the wall and with his hand, motioned towards the glass of water Sebastian had brought but set down on the floor and forgotten. Now he handed it to Tony, who finished it in one leisurely swallow and gestured with the empty glass to emphasize his words as he spoke. "My father wouldn't have clue how to keep a woman like Marlena happy and her clever mind and intelligence, while it may be intriguing to him now, would be his undoing, and the most fascinating part of this situation is I think he knows that better than anyone else."

"Part of the attraction?" guessed Sebastian.

Tony handed the glass back to him. "No doubt." Closing he eyes, he waited as his friend took the glass with him into the bathroom and filled it once more, listening as the water ran in the sink and then the footsteps on the marble floor as Sebastian made his way back around the bed to the window.

"Here."

Though the water wasn't iced, the glass was cool to the touch in the sticky morning humidity. He drank only half of it and then took a deep breath. "You need to get out of here…"

"Tony, you're not in any shape…"

Shutting his eyes and biting his tongue to prevent himself from snapping impatiently at his friend, Tony did his best to keep his voice even. "Okay, I'm not, but you don't need to worry about me, Stefano is angry but he's not going to hurt me physically and I know how to deal with him. You, on the other hand, I'm…" Tony swallowed the words as though not saying them would keep it from happening. "You need to go, _now_."

Sebastian hesitated.

"Jesus man, what the bloody hell are you waiting for? GO."

"I'm not going to just leave you here…"

But Tony grabbed onto his arm and yanked it hard. "You are the one in danger of getting shot here. Don't you know what Stefano will do if we give him enough time? Please, my friend, get out of here before he sends someone to drag you out in a body bag, you know this island better than anyone else and I know for a fact you have a way off you've kept for Mia and the boy in the event of an emergency. It's time to use it."

He didn't look happy about it but knew that Tony was right. Still, he swallowed uneasily as he asked, "If I make it?"

"Deliver that note," said Tony giving a pointed stare to the top pocket of Sebastian's shirt where he could see the folded bit of paper he'd given Sebastian the night before as he was climbing into the cockpit next to Marlena. "To my brother…" his wry smile turned lopsided, "in Salem."

A tiny, fleeting grin hovered at the corner of Sebastian's mouth but it didn't reach his eyes which met Tony's briefly and then he was gone, out the open window that stood three stories above the garden, on his way up to the roof. Tony had no qualms that he'd make it through the ring of Stefano's men, most of who had never been on the island and didn't know its secrets as well as Sebastian. Making it off this rock however, and to the nearest port was an entirely different matter. He'd have to wait until nightfall and then make it to one of the other islands before morning and hide out till Stefano gave up the search; weeks or even months from now, if they were lucky.

And by then the twins could be anywhere in the world.

Tony cursed under his breath and as he lifted the glass in his hand to drink what was left, he heard the lock click and looking up, nearly choked on the water he'd drunk.

Standing in the doorway was Marlena.

He shot a glance over her shoulder, half expecting to find Stefano shadowing her in the darkness of the passageway. Instead he encountered Rolf's cold, measuring stare.

The doctor offered no news, though for a moment, he seemed to hesitate as though waiting to see if Tony would inquire about his father's health and when the question wasn't forthcoming, he reached to shut the door with a bit more force than was absolutely necessary in Tony's opinion.

"Thank God," breathed Marlena, bounding down the stairs. "I was so afraid when I heard about Stefano…"

Tony considered trying to get up but quickly nixed the idea as he was certain he'd fall flat on his ass, an even less desirable position than the one he was in already. "Well, I haven't heard a thing…other than the fact the bastard is still alive."

She'd reached his side now and Tony swore there was approval gleaming in her expression though it quickly vanished beneath the professional air she assumed, checking his pulse and then his forehead for a temperature presumably.

"I'm fine Marlena. No one roughed me up…"

"But Rolf drugged you, didn't he?" Her tone left little room for argument and she seemed intent on giving him a thorough examination. If he hadn't been in such a lousy mood, the prospect would have amused him mostly likely and it took more self-control that it normally did to keep himself from snapping at her.

After several more endless minutes of begin poked and prodded, primarily near his eye that was swollen and probably bruised, she sat back on her knees, apparently satisfied.

"You didn't check my heart."

She arched one manicured eyebrow.

"To see if it was broken," he told her, wearing a lazy ghost of a smile.

Marlena's own smile was positively wicked and seductive all that same time. "Over me…or Stefano?"

"Oh please, you can't possibly imagine that Stefano would be competition for you."

"No, but _if_ your heart is broken, it has nothing to do with me in any event, does it?"

Tony's smile widened pleasurably. "I'm going to miss that I think more than anything else around here when you're gone."

"What?"

"That bare faced honesty of yours…you never play games."

Her laughter was chiding. "Tony, you enjoy games immensely and are exceedingly accomplished at them too, I might add."

"Not Stefano's variety."

"No."

He might as well have suggested they were both about to get shot from the change in her attitude, or perhaps she suddenly remembered that she had a reason to hate him. "Have you spoken to him?" he asked and when she shook her head in confusion, he clarified for her, "Stefano."

A piece of her smile returned. "From what I understand, he's not in any condition to speak at the moment."

Both of Tony's eyebrows shot up encouragingly. "Oh?"

"I suspect you came closer to your objective than Rolf would like either of us to know about because I'm telling you, when we got back here last night, the entire compound was in one hell of an uproar and I'm afraid most of the men took it out on Sebastian…" Her voice trailed off and she bit her bottom lip, afraid he'd demand more details but he didn't want to talk about Sebastian. A faint ray of hope took hold. His friend's chances were greatly improved as long as Rolf was in charge. The man might be clever but he didn't have Stefano's wits and he had too many other matters weighing on his mind to give hunting down Sebastian the time and attention it would require in order to succeed.

"I want you to promise me something," he said

She didn't look surprised but he could tell her suspicious were aroused.

"You mustn't give Rolf any reason to do something he…and I will both regret."

"Such as?"

"Such as your last encounter," said Tony more impatiently than he meant to, "and you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"You expect me to just stand by as they…"

"Yes, I do," he told her, a harsh edge grating in his voice now, determined to make her realize the danger she was in as long as Stefano was incapacitated. "Rolf has had a rough couple of days thanks to Sebastian and I, and you for that matter, and he'll take it out the first one who gives him an excuse, so please, don't do anything that will give him one." He didn't add his other fear. If Rolf was in control and in cahoots with Andre, god knew what the hell he was capable of…it was entirely possible that Stefano could die, due to the gunshot or Rolf's deliberate negligence, and then Rolf would help Andre take over. Just the idea made Tony's blood run cold and it was possible that Rolf's decision could be riding on nothing more than who was in better shape at this moment, Stefano or Andre.

"Tony, I can't…"

"You can do anything that will get you home in one piece to Carrie and Samantha and Eric." His fingers brushed her cheek gently. "Now promise me."

"But, he going to hurt you…"

"No, he's not," lied Tony.

"You don't believe that anymore than I do, especially now."

He felt a sudden urge to hurl the glass that was still in his grasp across the room, he was so infuriated at her stubbornness, but with an effort, controlled himself. "Are you _ever_ wrong?'

And to his astonishment, she turned away, but not before he caught a glimpse of the tear that slid down one cheek. "Anna was right about you it seems." Her voice was shaky and barely above a whisper. "You do have a cruel streak."

The words stung, but only because he knew she had no idea how he'd risked the twins' lives the previous night but her opinion of his shortcomings was a waste of time considering the current situation. He had to find a way to get through to her, and make her understand that she could very well be on her own soon. Neither Rolf nor Andre would treat her with as much respect as Stefano. To them, she'd be nothing more than a liability and they'd happily dispose of her without even a second thought. "Marlena…" Gently, his hand nudged her chin back around so she was facing him. "Our children need a parent, preferably one who's still alive and sane. That is the only thing left I have to ask of you…"

"She looked shocked for just a moment and then her eyes lit up angrily. "Tony DiMera, so help me," and reached to grab the front of his shirt. "don't you _dare _give up on me now. We are both getting out of here…"

"That wasn't the deal," he reminded her.

"I don't care."

"But you will eventually."

"No…"

He slipped a finger under her chin to raise it slightly so that her eyes, hard and bright with unshed tears met his. "This is my home, not yours."

"You're not talking about this being your home, and we both know it."

"Whatever it turns out to be," he told her carefully, his eyes narrowing, "you don't belong here." He gave each word an emphasis that she couldn't miss.

"Damn you." The words exploded from between her teeth and her hand squeezed his shirt into a knot curled around her white knuckled fist. "If you make me visit your grave here, you'll be sorry, I promise you."

He couldn't hold back that grin that worked its way up the side of his mouth at her threat. "Well, you're getting the idea my dear."

Though infuriated with him, Marlena was too clever to miss the irony in his statement and her hand froze and slowly loosened it's grip and then suddenly she had his face in between her palms and her whisper was low, a throaty hiss he could barely understand. "You have my word, I'll do whatever it takes to stay alive here, but you had better damn well do the same." She didn't wait for his answer, at least not verbally. Instead she kissed him, the same way she had only a few short weeks ago in this same room and it was a kiss left no room for arguments, indecision or lies.


	37. Chapter ThirtySix

Place: DiMera Compound

Time: Tony's Memories of 1991

When Tony woke again later on, the sun was casting hazy afternoon shadows across the stonewalls of the room. And it was quiet, except for Marlena's gentle snoring. Her head lay pillowed on his chest and he suspected she'd not slept an entire night since before they'd taken the twins away. There were gray shadows that curved beneath the long lashes that hid her eyes. Reaching around behind him, he pulled out the blanket Sebastian had lifted off the bed to use as a cushion, and as gently as he could, eased his body from under her, replacing it with the folds of soft cotton. Her breathing continued evenly.

Getting to his feet wasn't nearly as easy and he was glad she wasn't awake to witness his clumsiness. It took three attempts to stand up and then he had to hang onto the bedposts for the first few steps so he could make it into the bathroom without slipping back down to the floor again.

Still, he did feel better than he had earlier. Except for his face with its lurid bruise near his right eye, and his shoulder, which he'd probably jammed when he fell the night before, he didn't ache any longer but he'd not eaten and the drugs had left him weak. How the hell was he going to get out of this mess he wondered.

As he turned on the faucet to draw cold water, he thought about the odds of getting off the island in one piece and not one of them seemed all that promising.

His mind occupied elsewhere and with the noise of the water running he didn't hear the door. His first warning was the sound of her voice urgently calling his name but it didn't give him enough time to react before a set of rough hands dug into his arms from behind and hauled him out of the bathroom. He tried to break free but a muscular arm wrapped itself around his throat and wrenched it back as someone else snapped a pair of cuffs on him, tightening them with brutal force so that they cut into his wrists. In the distance he could hear his name and then a scream that was cut off.

He didn't get more than a second's glimpse of her being held back from trying to reach him, a hand clamped over her mouth, struggling to break away as he was dragged up the steps and hurled through the door into the black passageway. He caught his foot on someone's leg and fell against the doorframe and quickly rolled onto his back and kicked the door with all the force he could manage and propelled it into the man nearest the stone banister, sending him, arms flaying in the air, over the low divider and onto the floor below. Tony dropped the one in directly in front of him with a kick to the groin but at that moment, a hand grabbed a fistful of his hair out of the void that stretched behind him. There was no warning or threats. The hand simply snatched him before he could gain the momentum he needed to roll over. It drug him across the rough flagstones so that they tore into his arms and jerked the cuffs painfully, catching on the corners every few feet or so and then without warning, dropped him.

A bright light flashed in his eyes. "Get up."

Wincing, he found the wall, using it to help him to get his feet beneath him.

Instantly, a burly arm jammed itself against his windpipe and a growl whispered in his ear. "Do that again, and I'll make you watch me take her." Tony had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep himself from reacting to the threat, his whole body tensing up at the thought of the horror these men could wreck, if allowed. What the hell was Rolf playing at? Or was Andre the one in charge now?

Just as quickly as it appeared, the arm vanished from his throat and then shoved him in the direction of the tiny trap door a few feet away.

Climbing through awkwardly without the use of his hands, and shuffling out on his knees across the gigantic hearth so that he could see the main room beyond, he came face to face with Rolf.

The smile on the doctor's sallow face was thin and distinctly unpleasant, all the more so as it still sported three livid red scabs running down the side of his cheek.

Tony stumbled trying to get to his feet but no one lent a hand now. Every eye in the room was nailed to him as he made two attempts, and failed. He'd already used what little strength he'd had and finally had to crawl over the block wall and hang onto an old iron hook in order to stand up. Rolf enjoyed the show along with the rest of the men in the room, who resembled a pack of rangy dogs, just waiting for the signal to make their kill. Forcing himself to remain calm, Tony let his gaze return to the man his father seemed to have left in charge, a man staring down his long nose at Tony, his disgust plainly evident now.

"Not that you've shown the slightest concern for your father, but he is…"

The pause was deliberate no doubt and it was all Tony could do to keep himself from assuming the worst. He knew Rolf was baiting him. Trying to get him to react, to come unglued and give the men their opportunity to kill him without actually having to accept the responsibility. Which meant, Stefano was still alive…and still a threat. Tony breathed a sigh of relief inwardly. As long as Stefano lived, Rolf wouldn't dare to harm Marlena but Tony knew his own survival was another matter. Rolf was out for blood, and if Tony's were all that was available, Rolf was angry enough at the moment to find a way.

"…barely hanging on, thanks to you."

Tony didn't answer or respond in any way.

"And you're not even sorry, are you?"

Shrugging, Tony replied, "Given the history my father and I share, and the number of times he's tried to do the same to me, how broken up did you expect me to be?"

Rolf shook his head. "If it weren't for Stefano you'd be…" but cut himself off abruptly.

"Yes?" drawled Tony, with practiced nonchalance he certainly wasn't feeling.

But Rolf's gaze had regained its cool, crafty air once again. "Your father has spent more than five years trying to make amends for the pain he caused and instead of even attempting to meet him halfway, you reward his efforts by trying to murder him in cold blood."

"…in cold blood," Tony had to keep himself from snorting with laughter. "Tell me doctor, speaking of murder and such, where is the other member of this grisly little threesome?"

"Excuse me?"

"Andre."

"Oh." Rolf's face closed off so that it was a complete blank, which only made Tony convinced his suspicions had been correct. "Dead," Rolf told him. "I'm afraid he bled to death while you had me tied up in that cave."

A cruel smile glimmered at the edges of Tony's mouth. "Pity."

"In more ways than you can imagine."

"I very much doubt that," came Tony's instant retort, but something in Rolf's tone sparked a hunch, the implications of which were anything but pleasant. "How long have you and my cousin been conspiring behind Stefano's back?"

"My loyalty to your father is…"

"Without blemish," laughed Tony, "yes, I know, but Andre would no more assist you in keeping my children alive, that he would me, so what game have the two of you been up to?"

To Tony's surprise, Rolf didn't beat around the bush or equivocate. "Simply really, a bit of friendly…what is the word?" He paused and then shrugged. "Ah yes, persuasion."

Tony nodded slowly, rather amused at the thought of anyone this intelligent trying to convince Stefano that Andre was trustworthy. "From the location of that bullet hole Stefano put in Andre's head, I'd say you weren't all that successful." But even listening to Tony point out the obvious didn't phase Rolf's attitude.

"Stefano's insistence that the twins belong to you is a serious blunder, and he'll end up regretting his decision someday. He should have given them to your brother, or…" now the look on Rolf's face grew intense so that Tony sensed a zeal that was frightening, "your cousin."

Tony laughed uneasily. "You're crazy."

"The man's loyalty to this family far exceeded yours."

"And was that Stefano's opinion as well?" inquired Tony, doing his best to keep his sarcasm in control.

"No." replied Rolf, a sigh of exasperation escaping his lips. "I'm afraid your father has a tendency to let his feelings to cloud his judgment, especially where his children are concerned."

"Something you and Andre would never be guilty of."

Rolf's answer was a smile that made Tony's skin crawl and he began to reassess his belief that Marlena was still safe from the madness he felt building in the atmosphere around him.

Steeling himself, he asked Rolf with a haughtiness meant to be intimidating, "What do you want with me?"

The doctor returned his stare, gauging him silently and then he stepped a few feet closer and Tony could literally see the ravenous appetite burgeoning from behind the façade of cold disinterest as Rolf named his price. "Sebastian."

Tony laughed with disdain at the request. "I'm afraid I have no idea…"

But he got no further before rough hands grabbed hold of him and Rolf's fist knocked him sideways. "Games are a commodity that your exquisite friend…" the word leered at him and he could practically taste Rolf's stale breath it was so overpowering, the doctor's long fingers using Tony's shirt to keep his face only inches away, "cannot afford."

"You wouldn't dare touch Marlena," Tony seethed at him in a low growl, "Stefano would slit you open and let your friends here devour you for lunch."

Rolf loosened his grip and stepped back but the expression on his face hadn't changed and it contained a degree of pure satisfaction that lit up his face in a maniacal fashion and made Tony's gut wrench itself into a knot. "Yes," Rolf's admittance came readily, "no doubt you're right but it would be worth it to see you have to witness every excruciating second of it." His eyes traveled around the room to each of the men in turn, "and I suspect eternity wouldn't last as long."

Despite the iron grip on his arms, Tony lost control, using the only thing left to lash out at the men hanging onto him, his right foot smashing the man's knee closest to him and then, as his hand dropped away, Tony swung about but that was a far as he got as all four men who'd standing behind Rolf reacted simultaneously, overwhelming him, hauling him down to his knees and pinning his head back in a vice like grip that Tony felt certain was going to break his neck. His heart pounded in his chest as adrenalin burst through him but he was unable to do anything, even struggle.

Rolf's face appeared above him. "Not the position you imagined you'd be in yesterday, is it Count?"

Tony swallowed convulsively when one of the men pulled his head back another inch.

"You do remember arriving to check up on me back in that filthy tunnel where you had Sebastian leave me all trussed up like an animal."

Tony sucked in a breath that shuttered as he tried to keep his voice from breaking. "Please don't use her, its me you want..."

"And your lackey, Sebastian."

"I…" Tony stopped himself and then snarled at Rolf, "Damn you."

Rolf simply waited, malicious hatred gleaming in his eyes.

Tony tried to shut the sight away but it didn't help. He wanted desperately to exact a promise from Rolf that they'd bring Sebastian in and hold him for Stefano to deal with but he knew that wasn't what Rolf had in mind at all.

"Whatever patience I've exercised in the past, it has been depleted after the last two days, _sir_." The last word came out flat with sarcasm.

"Alright, alright," Tony tried to brace himself but it didn't really work as he spoke the words that would betray his friend, bringing him back to his death. "There's a cave…"

"Where?" Rolf demanded when Tony's voice failed him again and he felt as though he were drowning as he continued.

"At the bottom of the trail, the one that leads to the cottage."

He could see Rolf picturing the way in his mind. "You're lying."

"No, its…not the trail to the house." Tony gulped air but that didn't bring him any relief either. "It's the other one, the one that leads in the opposite direction, to the shore along the cliffs. There are caves…the second one is just large enough to…fit…a boat." The last two words came spitting out but Rolf had what he wanted now and ignored Tony's helpless rage.

He waved a couple of the men away. "Call down and tell Marco where the bastard is hiding out," he said as they headed out of the room, and then he stooped down to check on the one who lay nearby, still groaning in pain with a broken kneecap. Tony could see him kneeling out of the corner of one eye and saw him freeze as he was getting back to his feet.

"What are you doing out here you fool, you're supposed to be watching her."

A voice squeaked back from somewhere behind Tony, "But she's hungry…."

"I don't give a damn is she's passed out in there, I told you to stay and that's what I meant." Rolf's tone carried a hint of panic barely noticeable but there nonetheless.

"Stefano will kill us if anything happens to her," the voice continued, though with less confidence now. Whoever he was, he was young and scared but determined to not end up skewered because of Rolf apparently. It seemed that he feared Stefano more than the doctor. Tony wasn't sure that was such a wise decision under the circumstances but couldn't help but be thankful that someone was willing to take risks to keep Marlena safe, even if his main motive was saving his own skin.

"Yes, yes, whatever," snapped Rolf impatiently now, obviously not happy to be reminded once again of Stefano's affinity for Mrs. Brady, at least, not in front of Tony. "Get her something from the kitchen then, and be quick about it. That woman is a menace."

Tony heard the young man scamper off through the tiled entryway.

Rolf turned toward him now, his irritation still simmering and gave a curt nod to one of the men still holding him down. "Do something about those feet and then you can dump him in the corner for now. We'll find out soon enough if he's been telling us the truth." With that, he disappeared and Tony heard his footsteps on the stairs as one of the men dragged him, an arm tightening around his neck over to the wall and held on as the other guard grabbed a rope and proceeded to hogtie him. They were none too gentle about it either but finished quickly and left with no other parting shots. Tony didn't even need to check to know they'd done a professional job, there'd be no way for him to loosen the knots though he did manage, with gritting his teeth, as the effort further wretched the cuffs on his wrists, to shift his body the few inches necessary so that he had a view around the couch of the foyer and the stairs leading up to the laboratory.

After laying uncomfortably for ten minutes or so, he heard footsteps clicking on the tiles and a figure appeared, balancing a tray, his entire concentration focused on the contents so as to keep it from spilling. Once in the main room, he set it on the table nearest the mantle, and then spun around to open the trap door, and by chance, his eyes fell on Tony.

There was something familiar about his face, though not because they'd been introduced. He reminded Tony of someone rather, someone who'd only just left the room in fact, making the similarity that much more noticeable, and ominous. The boy was related to Rolf. And he was little more than an adolescent, his face still smooth but he'd witnessed enough in his young life to know he was in the middle of a potentially explosive situation because the indecision he was feeling tugged at him and it kept him from walking away and leaving Tony to his fate.

With a furtive, split-second glance over his shoulder at the stairway, he stepped closer, crouching down so he could whisper. "Sir, I'm sorry..." He gave an indiscriminate wave at Tony's condition, frowning. "I fear your father is going to punish us if he…he learns what my uncle is forcing us to do…"

"The rest of that mob assisting him don't seem particularly worried," Tony pointed out.

"That's because they think they're getting…" but his eyes widened as he realized what he'd been about to say, though just the few words he'd spoken were enough to make Tony's heart constrict and wave of panic threatened to overtake him. It didn't matter if he cooperated, Rolf would use Marlena anyway to reward the men and then make up some story to feed to Stefano. If he could make it appear that perhaps Tony tried to help her break out, Rolf might even get away with such a travesty but Tony knew now that wasn't the real problem because Stefano still needed Rolf alive. He'd punish everyone else, punish Rolf in some way too if he awoke to find Marlena and Tony both dead, but the ones that would suffer the most were the guards and unfortunately, those who were innocent; the servants, and this boy.

"So my father is improving?"

"He was conscious earlier today, for a few minutes and I understand he is regaining his strength."

"And Andre?"

After another glance over his shoulder, the boy confided, "my uncle says he probably won't survive."

So Rolf had lied, Tony thought to himself, but he also appeared to have made his choice. Despite that, the opportunity still existed for the doctor to carry out his own revenge before Stefano recovered sufficiently enough to stop him…all Rolf needed was a few additional hours and it would be too late for Marlena and Sebastian, for all of them. Obviously, he cared not in the least that he'd be triggering a blood bath. The boy seemed convinced this would be the outcome as well but exactly how far would he be willing to go to stop it from happening, would he defy his uncle, and risk the consequences if he were caught?

"You could warn my father," Tony suggested to him.

The boy stared at him, petrified and spun away. Tony could see him breathing deeply, clearly disturbed at the thought of what could come of such actions but he didn't walk away. "How?" came his whisper finally. "The only way up to his room is the stairs."

"No. There is a back way into the laboratory, through the passageway next to the bookcase."

More silence ensued, and then, "but he won't listen to me. I doubt your father even knows my name," an idea that would have amused Tony immensely at another time.

"All you have to do is take Marlena to him."

"You want me to let her out?" he asked, visions of his uncle's face and how it got that way probably swimming through the youngster's mind.

"Stefano would drag himself from his deathbed to keep her safe, at least from Rolf's mob."

The boy tossed a wild-eyed look at Tony over his shoulder and then hastened quickly to the mantle to open the trap door, and collecting the tray, vanished into the darkness beyond.

Cursing viciously in a number of different languages, Tony lay, feeling every damned nerve throughout his body shrieking and he glared at the empty hearth and then out at the stairs in the foyer. He'd been here before, he reminded himself, in the same blasted mess and escaped. Well, not exactly the same. Anna wasn't here…Anna with her tedious, narcissistic habits that never failed to exasperate him. Anna whining that she had nothing decent to wear when they buried her, that she was cold, hungry, miserable, scared. What he'd give to hear her whining now. For the sight of her exquisite features, to hear her giggling with delight when he tickled her and told her that she talked too much, the touch of her velvety soft lips caressing his skin… teasing him…

"_I thought you were the one insisting we go to this silly party," he pointed out, which didn't stop her or even slow her down. In fact, knowing that she had him so off balance, that he failed once again to get his cufflink through both openings only fueled her creativity. "Ah…" he made the mistake of closing his eyes for a moment and instantly his body began responding to the sensations. "Ummmm…you did tell Calliope and Alice Horton we'd be there, remember?" _

"_I did?" She didn't bother pretending to be innocent and Tony chuckled._

"_And tomorrow, you'll blame it all on me…won't you? When," he tossed the cufflink in the general direction of the dressing table, "you run into Alice." He could feel the curve of her smile against his cheek and feel the laughter welling up through her chest as she leaned into him._

"_Well maybe, now that I have your permission."_

_Tony bit his lip. "Lying to a nice, sweet old lady like Alice…"_

_"Alice Horton may be sweet but old?" came Anna's muffled laughter now. "She'll still be sharp as a tack when she's a hundred and twenty and she'll know I'm not lying because…well, everyone knows how naughty you are."_

_Instead of commenting, he pushed her back onto the bed with her hands over her head and kissed her hungrily, his tongue searing through her mouth, fully aware that she'd respond in kind, no longer concerned with dinner plans or who promised what or tomorrow, or Alice Horton. It was pretty obvious after barely a moment that she wasn't concerned either with anything other driving him wild and how very talented she was in that department. When he finally came up for air, both of them were panting, Anna's chest straining the confines of her slip and her eyes sparkling, daring him to rip it off._

_The edge of Tony's mouth slid sideways until he was wearing a lazy smirk. "Be careful what you wish for, my dear."_

_Though she didn't say anything, she cocked her head to the side and shrugged, an almost dainty flicker of glee testing him and he leaned over to leave a peck on her lips and without warning, grabbed onto the top of her slip with his teeth and pulled. The lacy fabric gave way with little resistance. He tore enough of it until he had an unobstructed view of what lay beneath and ignoring the sharp intake of her breath for several longs moments, he simply gazed down appreciatively._

_God, she was so incredibly beautiful, lying there, both of her breasts rising and falling in quick succession, waiting for his touch, the feel of his tongue…_

_Briefly his eyes drifted up to meet hers. They were wide and held his, wanting only one thing, and he found her anticipation suddenly endearing. They'd never needed words. In fact, that was the one thing the always got them into trouble he thought in passing, turning his attention back to the sight he never tired of, just as he never tired of hearing her moan as his lips grazed her skin, pressing kisses, circling, driving her breathing up another notch until his mouth reached the top and he wrapped his lips around her aching rose colored nipple, playing with a languid ease that sent shivers through her body. He felt her back arch ever so slightly, wanting more, her moans growing in their intensity. Keeping one hand on her wrist, he let the other wander over her shoulder, following the lovely curve of her figure until he reached the bottom edge of her slip and smoothed it up to her waist. _

_She had no panties underneath and he grinned. Anna was quite single minded when the mood took her and knew exactly how to get her way. "Speaking of naughty…" he laughed, shooting a look to meet her eyes once again but before she could answer, nipped at her breast with just enough pressure to make her forget her irritation with him completely and then his hand reached…._

"Oh, for Christ's sake," he sighed in disgust at himself. Why was he wasting his time dreaming of the impossible. It sure as hell wouldn't help, wouldn't get him out of this mess he'd created and if he didn't figure out something here, really soon, he be stuck watching as Rolf's men drug Sebastian in and would be forced to witness…

Before this appalling image progressed any further, he heard a heel scrap against the concrete floor of the hearth and twisted his head around to see two figures emerging from the hole in the fireplace. The boy ignored him and sent a sly look at the stairs and without ceremony, headed straight to the bookcase, pulling Marlena along behind him. Her eyes were round, glued to Tony. A door slammed somewhere upstairs, making her jolt nervously but that iron will of hers shown through, keeping her from loosing control and when the panel next to the bookcase slid open, she followed the boy inside, a secretive smile the last thing he saw as the wall hid her from sight.

It had taken all of thirty seconds perhaps. He felt his heart pounding and was certain if anyone else were around, they'd easily hear it. The thought no more entered his head than footsteps echoed in the foyer and with a glass of brandy cradled in one hand, Rolf appeared. Come to gloat no doubt. Tony squelched his annoyance at having to put up with the doctor's glee as it meant he'd not be up with the laboratory where he could keep track of Marlena and her whereabouts. Not that Tony was going to enjoy the situation. Playing dumb did not sound appealing but if it kept them all alive, he'd done that before too.

Rolf sat down on the sofa and crossed his legs without uttering a syllable. He possessed the coldest pair of eyes Tony had ever seen in a man of his profession and they changed from blue to green depending on the color of his shirt or brightness in a room. Neither color provided warmth.

As he leaned back into the overstuffed upholstery he pursed his lips, lending him the appearance of a rather elderly nun about to scold her charge. "You're still not going to ask how he's doing."

"It doesn't seem at the moment as though either result will be of much use to me."

"And that is really all you care about."

Tony's glance became razor sharp. "I didn't ask to come back here," he informed Rolf. "I didn't want any of this and I sure as hell didn't want anything to do with him."

"And yet you know how he feels about you." Rolf's accent became more pronounced when he was in the midst of giving a lecture and it was all Tony could do to keep himself from rolling his eyes.

"I know how he feels when it's convenient, and how quickly that feeling evaporates when any of us get in the way of his plans."

"And what right have you to judge your elders, your own father?"

"The same right I have to keep myself alive," Tony shot back, "and to protect what little remains of my family, thanks to him."

"This family is the only thing he truly cares about."

"What he cares about is having us all at his beck and call to manipulate, and of course to entertain him. To Stefano, we're nothing more than his own, personal traveling circus." Tony didn't bother disguising his bitterness

Rolf's shrewd gaze searched Tony's face and finally he shook his head with an air of regret. "You're wrong, and I'd think the fact that he provided you with two beautiful children, that they exist would be proof of that."

"Why?" It escaped Tony's lips, demanding and pleading for an explanation. All these hints were driving him crazy and he wanted answers but after all his years of experience with Stefano, he couldn't help but suspect this shocking past was nothing more than smoke and mirrors, and as though to prove this point, with his typical slick manner, Rolf avoided the question.

"If I were you, I'd be more concerned about trying to earn his forgiveness, a quality Stefano has had to display quite often, especially with his children. It would be well for you to emulate him."

"You tell me how to forgive the man responsible for taking away the memory of my children," whispered Tony, gritting his teeth.

A strange look came over Rolf suddenly, as though he were truly appalled and for an instant, it seemed as though he were holding himself back from physically lashing out. The whites of his eyes grew wide and he scowled, "Andre's right, you're an ingrate, nothing but a spoiled arrogant puppy sniveling over the past, shedding crocodile tears so that you can revile the man that did everything in his power to make this tragedy easier for you…it's unconscionable. Andre's behavior, that I've come to understand because he's had to live with this but not you. Stefano wiped it all away and this," Rolf brandished his glass heatedly so that amber liquid splashed over the rim, "is how you repay him?"

"Wiped what away?" Tony asked, unable to stop himself. "What happened?"

Rolf opened his mouth, but whatever answer he'd intended to give Tony, it was interrupted by the sound of a horrendous, wailing cry from outdoors and Tony's eyes narrowed, as they flashed back to the doctor.

"You didn't send Mia and her son away as Stefano promised."

Rolf lifted a shoulder, unimpressed. "It was her decision to stay."

"That's a lie."

The words came spitting out and their vehemence touched off a nerve in Rolf. With a quickness Tony wouldn't have thought possible, the doctor jumped up and within seconds, had a grip on Tony's throat with both hands, using it to haul him upright to his knees. "Perhaps you care to have her with you, so that she too can watch…"

Tony swallowed back the bitterness like bile in his throat with difficulty. "No, I wouldn't."

"And?" The fingers circling his neck tightened to keep him from pulling away and his field of vision was permeated with Rolf's thin, stern visage.

He was demanding an apology, damn him. He meant to take complete advantage of this opportunity to rub Tony's nose in the dirt, to revel in the power he was able to wield over the two men with audacity enough to use him for their own purposes. If Tony refused, the situation, already bordering on horrific would most likely degenerate even further.

Not sure how, he produced a hint of respect in his voice. "You have my…apology."

Rolf's eyes continued to wear a precarious sheen and Tony feared he'd demand more of him until a crowd of guards arrived, dragging a battered Sebastian along in their midst and Rolf forgot whatever form of humiliation he'd intended to impose, turning his attention instead to the man who'd so easily tricked him and made a fool of him in front of Stefano and worse, the rest of these inferiors. This was the sight he'd been waiting for...and one that ripped through Tony.

His friend still stood on his own, barely. However, it was obvious he'd not walked back up the trail but had been hauled up through the dirt and rocks. A rope hung all the way to the floor from his wrists, which were a bloody mess as was several inches of the rope and his shirt was nothing but shreds of material that did little to hide the extent of his injuries, long jagged cuts running the length of his torso. But his blue eyes burned as he confronted Rolf.

"Coward," and he laughed. "All these men to watch your back now that your boss is laid up, but not enough nerve to come get me yourself."

Rolf's response was to grab a fistful of Tony's hair and jerk his head back. "Since you wish to point fingers, this is the man responsible for your predicament…your _friend_." His emphasis on the last word reeked with sarcasm.

"I know exactly what you've done."

"Done?" Rolf cocked his head to one side and Sebastian's expressive face smiled sadly and his eyes met Tony's and remained there as he answered Rolf's question.

"There is only one thing you could have done to force the Count into this situation and if Stefano ever discovers what that is…" his keen glance shifted back up at the doctor, "well my friend, my death will be painless in comparison."

The resulting look in Rolf's eyes was grim. "Possibly, but I can guarantee that neither of you will be here to see or enjoy it."

Despite being convinced already that Rolf meant to kill him, hearing it uttered in such a matter of fact tone made it feel inevitable and that infuriated Tony suddenly but he kept himself from reacting as he knew Rolf would use it as an excuse to torture Sebastian further. He had to try and buy them some time so that Marlena could do what it took to get Stefano down here. Problem was, nearly all the things that came to mind would only make the situation worse.

…except for the obvious one.

It was an idea which had occurred to him in desperation and it made Tony want to wretch but not as much as the certainty of having to watch his father's men beat his friend to death. If he was lucky, he could stretch it out so that both of them survived but if not… at least Sebastian's ordeal would be over. After all they'd been through, the risks Sebastian had taken for him, he owed him that.

And he knew Rolf would fall for it because he wanted nothing less than a spectacle.

Lifting his eyes, Tony made his perusal of the damage slightly more calculating this time around. For a moment, he met Sebastian's steady gaze and then purposely set his own boring into every single one of the guards in turn. "We may not be around to witness the result," he said, speaking to Rolf, but careful to keep his focus on the men, "but I don't need to be here to know what Stefano's reaction will be."

Rolf pulled Tony's head back far enough so that he was forced to face him, not the guards. "In your case, I'll be doing him a favor…"

A grin creased Tony's face. "Robbing my father of the immense satisfaction of punishing either myself or Sebastian with his own two hands will do nothing but infuriate him and everyone in this room has had their share of experience with Stefano's temper tantrums."

Though Rolf looked angry, he couldn't hide the fear that hovered as Tony uttered this fact aloud and sensing he was getting to the man, Tony drove the point home. "Everyone in this room will pay for such a error in judgment and knowing Stefano, in quite a nasty fashion." His wry, lazy tone challenged Rolf's authority and the doctor was well aware of it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see his warning beginning to take affect. A couple of the guards were shuffling their feet nervously and instead of focusing on their charge, they eyed Rolf almost accusingly. They'd not counted on this form of trouble, or realized the extent of Rolf's plans, especially when it came to Tony. Punishing traitors was one thing, but murdering Stefano's son, no matter what he'd done was another matter entirely.

Tony risked a glance in Sebastian's direction. His eyes were on Rolf, who in turn knew that he was loosing control of the situation. The men were edging quickly towards a mutiny.

Sending Tony an icy glare, Rolf released his hold and turned to the guard behind him, reaching for what could have been a gun but wasn't. With a swift motion, he was back and cutting the rope that attached Tony's ankles to the handcuffs on his wrists, and then with a bit more effort, sawed through the multiple ropes binding Tony's ankles.

"Alright, get up," he ordered.

This was not so easily accomplished as his feet were numb but Rolf was in no mood to be patient and taking hold of Tony's arm, yanked him upright. Somehow, Tony kept himself standing. Rolf unlocked the cuffs next and tugged them off, causing Tony to wince in pain as his wrists were mangled and not in much better shape than Sebastian's. Shoving the discomfort to the back of his mind, Tony looked up and found Rolf had stepped back. On the table next to the glass Rolf had brought with him earlier, lay the knife he'd just used and it took all the restraint Tony had ever learned to keep himself from grinning triumphantly, to keep his face immobile. This wasn't over yet, he reminded himself.

Without some fancy stall tactics, he might still be obligated to use the gray length of steel in front of him, and imagining such an act was suddenly a different beast staring him in the face. He didn't need to pretend for Rolf's benefit, or anyone else because the idea of it sickened him. He couldn't do this.

His gaze darted up to meet Rolf's, and slowly, fighting his sudden cowardice, he shook his head.

"No."

"If you'd rather," came the voice belonging to the monster standing in front of him, "I'll give you a choice…"

Tony knew Rolf was talking about Marlena and he bit his lip so hard, that he could feel blood squirt into his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, anguish tearing through him. God, how was he ever going to live with this on his conscious?

"Tony…"

His friend's calm voice beckoned him. It held the murmur of the waves in its beautiful sonorous tones, and the breeze rippling through the leaves, the memory of a hundred afternoons he'd spent relaxing in Sebastian's company on the porch or at the beach or just a set of rocks jutting up at the edge of the water after a swim. It was the murmur of friendship and joy, and eternity…the kind that couldn't be destroyed even by the likes of a fiend like Rolf, and finally he met his friend's clear gaze.

His heart still pounded violently in his chest, but he moved to the table and picked up the knife. He knew his resolve would falter if he dared let his eyes wander to anyone else in the room or let their poison infect him. Sebastian's eyes sparkled and in them, Tony could see sunlight dancing on the water's surface and he followed it, letting the illusion draw him step by step, closing the distance between them until he was only a few feet away, so close, he could reach out and use the knife.

"I…" he didn't really know what he'd meant to say and Sebastian stopped him before he could figure it out with a simple knowing look. It was one that reminded him of that day long ago in Venice, when Sebastian had defied Tony's enraged cousin, making a choice which had led the two of them through so many other moments, all of them spinning in his memory now. He let his eyes drift down his friend's chest, searching for the right spot. He was going to make this as painless as he could. When he glanced back up, Sebastian was ready and nodded to him and Tony drew his hand back but the knife never reached Sebastian's chest.

Neither of them had been paying any attention to the others in the room and so didn't see the guard move forward. It all happened in seconds. Fingers grabbing at his wrist, forcing it inextricably back and around and then shoving the point of the blade deeply into Tony's abdomen and as Tony raised his head from the sight in shock to find the one responsible, the guard's face exploded in a crimson blaze of blood and skin and bone. Tony's legs gave way beneath him. Screams split the air in every direction as he fell to his knees, the knife still stuck in his gut and his eyes connected with a figure in a wheelchair. In his hand, the silver glint of a pistol. Stefano. He'd shot every single guard in the room and now turned the gun at the only man left standing.

Over the chaos and the din of other noises, Tony heard someone yell out, not realizing it was his own voice as his father squeezed the trigger. Seconds jolted by in increments, one for each frame like disjoined snapshots of the carnage that lay between his father and the tangle of bodies surrounding Sebastian's frozen form…Sebastian who didn't look surprised but he'd caught Stefano's eye and held it until his body crumpled amid the others around him into the sea of blood already soaking the stone floor and in that span of a second, Tony felt his world come crashing in on him. He'd failed miserably and all the people he'd loved had paid for his mistakes and he'd been forced to watch them die over and over again. For the first time in his life he prayed that he could die too. He grabbed hold of the smooth wooden handle sticking out of his stomach and with a hideous cry, yanked the knife free but instantly the handle was slick with his own blood and it slid through his grasp. The room began spinning, pulling him down and he knew there was no reason to worry; the end was coming. There were noises all around him, men groaning, the boom of his father's voice, someone else arguing, and what sounded like the scraping whine of furniture being hauled across the floor but as he turned his head, Sebastian's blue eyes, still swimming with pale sunlight met his. They warmed him, and reassured him…they asked the impossible of him, to stay alive.


	38. Chapter ThirtySeven

Time: March 2003

Place: Salem

There was a crisp layer of snow beyond the window of the conservatory that created a glare, making the thin winter sunlight seem brighter than normal. Too bright this morning. Tony wasn't particularly in the mood for sunshine, bright or otherwise. Barely a couple of weeks home from the compound, and already he wanted to wring his brother's neck, and he was sick of dancing around Marlena, pretending one minute to be interested for all the parties who were busy watching, including his children, and fighting the urge to shake her the next with the insane hope she'd simply remember everything and he could be done with this sick charade. Finding the bug John had planted only the previous day hadn't helped improve the situation either or his disposition.

Why the bloody hell couldn't the man be as tenacious about digging into his own past?

Into this reverie came the faint sound of a latch clicking and he heard footsteps whisper along the pavers as he lifted his cup to his lips. Had to be Cassie. Rex never bothered trying to sneak up on him. After a swallow of what was left of his coffee, he pretended to stare out of the window as though he didn't know she was eyeing him curiously from the narrow table a good ten feet behind him

He had little trouble admitting that he worried more about her than Rex. His son appeared to be finding his way so far, fitting in, making friends…accepting circumstances as he found them but not Cassie. She fought and scratched her way through even when there was no need. A spitfire, with a head of blazing red hair to match her temperament.

But he knew her toughness was a façade, as John so aptly recognized day after they'd returned and told the twins the truth. Listening to him as he admitted his own anxieties upon arriving in Salem with no memories and no past affected Tony more than he liked. Still, he'd been right. Cassie was most definitely insecure. On top of that, Tony recognized several other attributes in his daughter, ones he couldn't help but find disquieting as he realized why he'd picked up on them so quickly. The girl had an innate ability to manipulate people, and worse, she enjoyed it. While Tony had found some of her antics amusing, her behavior was a painful reminder of just whose influence he was witnessing. She may not remember Stefano, but he was hardwired into her personality in a way that Tony found hard to bear.

In every other way the girl was exquisite, vibrant and alive, intelligent and totally unpredictable. She was everything he knew Stefano prized in his offspring and Tony had to marvel at the job he'd done wiping out aspects of her mother. Beyond the slight physical likeness they shared, the two women were like Jeckel and Hyde. If Tony hadn't known positively they were related, he'd have sworn it was a set up engineered by the old man.

For one thing, Stefano knew him too well. Any child would have found a place in Tony's heart, but Cassie was an enigma. It was a though his father had purposely fixed it so that the girl was the exact combination of the two women Tony had loved the most.

"Daddy?" Her lips brushed his temple.

An involuntary smile lit up his face and it amused him that a simple thing like hearing himself referred to this way could inspire such joy. "Ah, my darling…good morning." He reached to squeeze her hand affectionately, guiding her over the chair next to him. "And how did you enjoy breakfast with your mother?"

"It would have been better if you'd joined us."

Tony couldn't resist a snort of laughter. "Somehow, I doubt that," he told her with a bitter smile that he knew she'd misinterpret.

Cassie returned a smile that was coy and batted her eyelashes as he'd seen her do to young Shawn Brady. "You needn't have worried, John only stayed for a few minutes…something about an early meeting."

With a blank tape recorder, thought Tony, rather pleased with himself for once, remembering the immense pleasure he's felt grinding John's bug beneath his heel the night before, but he didn't let his satisfaction peek through his calm demeanor. "A meeting," he mused aloud, making an effort to sound disinterested, "what a shame."

"Daddy…"

Tony's dark eyes gleamed with a smoldering edge to them and her voice failed her, but not for long and she took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

"I know how you feel about Marlena."

Dear god, for a second, he felt as though he was staring into his wife's face, unfathomable, so that he hadn't a clue of what was going to come out of her mouth next. "Its good to know someone does," he said, half jokingly, "because frankly, I don't."

"I don't think she does either."

That was the last thing he wanted to hear. "I'm afraid my dear, that you are imagining things…I understand that you want…"

"I'm serious," she interrupted him, hurt by his brush off. "When she knows you're not around to hear what she says or gage her remarks, she's much less guarded."

Perhaps the sincerity in her voice was genuine, perhaps not, but it made him pause. "Has she said something?"

Cassie shook her head. "No, but she's curious, not openly but…" She frowned, irritated that she couldn't find the right words to explain what she wanted to convey to him and for an instant he wondered if perhaps Marlena was beginning to remember more of her past. He waited for Cassie to continue but she either couldn't find the right avenue to express herself or changed her mind about sharing it with him. Part of him was disappointed, which bothered him even more and decided it was time to change the subject.

"Well never mind, where is your brother this morning?"

Before she could tell him, his cell phone sitting on the table next to him beeped. He glanced over at the number.

Shane.

They'd yet to speak to each other since Tony's return from the compound. According to Patrick, who had shown far more civility that in the past, Shane was away and would contact Tony upon his return and though Tony had told himself he had nothing to worry about, that Shane still had ISA responsibilities he needed to follow through on, there'd been the faintest hint in Patrick's demeanor that all was not as it ought to be.

He glanced back at Cassie to find her studying him intently. "Yes?" he prompted to remind her of his question and she shrugged.

"In class."

Tony nodded and with as much nonchalance as he could manage under the circumstances asked, "Have either of you seen or heard from Dr. Putnman lately?"

"Here, or at school?" Cassie was confused.

"Well, Bart tells me that he…" pausing, Tony wondered just how much the twins really knew about the doctor's true nature, "the man literally vanished while I was away and I thought that perhaps one of you might have heard something from one of the other students?"

"And we assumed that you'd be able to tell us what happened to him," she countered.

Tony eyebrows shot up. "Me? He shook his head a couple of times. "Why?"

"Because he works for you."

Leaning back in his chair, a sliver of memory flashed in his mind like heat lightening…Rolf's beady eyes, waiting, expecting Tony to pick up the knife, to use it for his entertainment and kill Sebastian... "The doctor was employed by your grandfather," Tony explained stiffly, fighting back the emotions that threatened to burst through the veneer of control he was maintaining whenever the images began to surface again.

"Is that why you never trusted him?"

Tony had to tear himself from the past to focus on his daughter. She could be quite perceptive when it came to people, when she applied herself and didn't allow her insecurities or desires to get in the way. "I didn't trust him because he lied to me about you and your brother," he told her bluntly.

Cassie shook her head. "But why would he…or why would your father want to keep us away from you?"

He couldn't answer her for several long seconds as everything he'd learned over the last few weeks boiled within him, especially as he remembered the sight of her and her brother lying in their cribs, trapped between Stefano holding a gun on one side and Andre on their other. He couldn't tell her the truth. Hell, he wasn't even sure he knew what the truth was. So little remained of that in this family…the more he learned, the more convoluted the entire situation became and so he fell back on his initial reaction, simplistic but very convenient. "Your grandfather loved his children but he also had no compunction when it came to using us for his own purposes and he's always been quite adept at exploiting our weaknesses."

His daughter's luminous eyes gazed back at him in silence and then abruptly she smirked at him. "I didn't realize you had any."

And the challenge in her tone made Tony laugh again. "Your step-father hasn't provided you with a list of my shortcomings yet?"

"No." Her smile vanished. "Actually he won't even mention your name and if Rex or I bring it up, he changes the subject."

"How civilized." The crack escaped his lips before he could stop himself but again Cassie misinterpreted his motives.

"He's just worried that Marlena will choose you."

This time, he did suppress the grin twitching at the edge of his mouth and swallowed his retort about John's baggage when it came to relationships, especially the one he was currently trying to hold together and for some reason that brought Tony's thoughts back to the phone call he'd just received. The reason wasn't that much of a mystery. From the moment he'd regained consciousness in the plane, or for that matter, the first night at the compound when his memory began to return, he'd spent hours considering how exactly he was going to break this news to Anna. It couldn't be done over the phone, that was for certain. He was going to need Shane's help.

"She could, you know."

Tony's head shot up to meet his daughter's sly but earnest expression and had to remind himself who she was talking about.

"Cassie," he said, leaning forward and reaching out to take her hand, "your mother is confused because she doesn't remember the things that happened to her before and after you and your brother were born. Those fears have nothing to do with her feelings for John."

"Or you?"

He shrugged. "The feelings she has for me are hardly ones that John need worry about."

"Why? Because she pretends not to like you?"

"It's not an act Cassie."

Pulling her hand away, Cassie sat back with a stubborn look on her face. "You're just trying to keep me from interfering."

Tony had to cover the grin that instantly sprang to his lips behind his hand. This was just great…discouragement would only create more of a challenge in her mind and encouraging her would pretty much do the same. Disinterest seemed the only course of action left, not that he figured that had a chance in hell of working either. The girl wanted a family…the kind her sister had. Cursing his father, he pasted a flat, blank aspect on his face and wondered if it was normal for a parent to want his daughter to find herself a boyfriend as a way to keep her distracted from more dangerous activities. He must be crazy. "How are the living arrangements at the dorm working out," he asked without a shred of hope that she'd focus on his question and sure enough, she ignored it completely.

"I'm not giving up on this because I see how you feel every time you look at her."

Tony sighed inwardly, then grabbed his phone and stood up. As he leaned down to kiss her on her forehead, he brushed an errant red curl out of her face and said softly, "Don't underestimate your step father, he's quite determined. And believe it or not, he needs her more than I do." With that, he dropped another kiss on the top of her head and took off in the direction of his study.


	39. Chapter ThirtyEight

Time: March 2003

Place: Salem

Once behind the closed door of his study, Tony used the house phone, requesting that Bart bring around his car. Bart of course argued, offering to deliver him to his appointment in the limousine.

"You already have an assignment," Tony reminded him curtly.

"Right. Find Rolfski." Hearing Bart's endearment for the doctor irked Tony, along with the reluctance that was evident even from the other end of the phone but he'd already made it clear to Bart the consequences if he failed to produce Rolf soon, and so hung up without another word and put in a call to Shane.

"Give me five minutes," he told his partner, and without waiting for a reply, turned off the cell phone and slipping it into his pocket, grabbed his briefcase. As he stood, shuffling the files around on his desk, searching for the two pertaining to the meeting he'd scheduled later on in the afternoon, he debated the wisdom of trusting Bart with this assignment.

He knew he couldn't trust himself. What he wanted to do to Rolf at this point would be extremely messy and drawn out but most definitely permanent and he couldn't afford that. Rolf was his only link to Andre. Since his trip to the compound, Tony wholeheartedly accepted Eugene's assessment of the situation. Andre was alive and had one goal in mind it seemed, taking over. That could be the only explanation for the blackouts Tony had suffered, the ones that mysteriously vanished upon the return of his memory, especially since the events he'd discovered would drive more of a wedge between him and his father. Why would Stefano want that, or Rolf for that matter? Where the doctor was concerned though, Tony figured he was most likely an unwilling partner, forced to accept the inevitable conclusion of almost twenty years of playing both sides. He'd been caught in his own trap and forced to do as Andre ordered, either than or deal with the consequences of his betrayal…and face an enraged Stefano. No, Rolf was stuck and Tony meant to take complete advantage.

Once he acquired the information he needed, he'd take great pleasure in making certain that Rolf accepted the depth of his betrayal.

At least the blackouts the doctor had been responsible for had stopped but the nightmares Tony was experiencing now more than made up for it, especially the sight of Sebastian's eyes as the light in them faded to a void and then there was the sense of failure and helplessness and fury that accompanied the dreams. Every morning meant shaking off the feelings all over again.

Having located the files and stuffed them in his briefcase, he headed out front where Bart stood next to the new Jaguar, door open. Thankfully, he kept his peace as Tony slid into the seat and pulled on his seatbelt, but as he began to close the door Tony put his hand out to keep it open.

"When you find Rolf, you are to ensure he stays here by any means necessary," said Tony, not looking around at Bart's face, "do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Boss."

Tony winced at the term and began to pull the door closed but remembered who he was talking to and decided he'd better be absolutely clear. "And I don't want him near the twins under any circumstances." With that, he slammed the door shut and hit the accelerator.

Despite the speed at which he was driving, he was still a good mile from the park when the phone went off again but he answered it anyway. "For someone who hasn't had the time to speak to me in over a week, you're awfully impatient this morning."

"I thought Patrick explained that I was away." Shane sounded alert and relaxed.

"Yes, does that mean you located Ellie's brother finally?"

"Actually we have but we already discussed the fact that I can't go speak to him and since I know you're dying of curiosity," Shane's tone was amused, "I'll put you out of your misery. I was in Haiti."

A snort of laughter escaped Tony. "Visiting Colin?"

"I thought he might be able to help us with information on Kate Roberts."

Tony's laughter ended abruptly as he realized that Shane would only bring up his trip if he'd learned something from Murphy. "And?"

"I think it's quite possible you have another brother or sister that Stefano has kept under wraps somewhere."

The comment, so casually uttered almost made Tony miss the entrance to the park so that the tires squealed as he swung into a hard right turn and then, once inside the parking lot, shoved on the brake. "Kate? And Stefano?" Tony didn't bother hiding his aversion, he'd always thought Kate had more taste, but then he would have thought she had more taste than to fall for his cousin as well.

"According to Colin."

"He has seen evidence that there is child hidden somewhere?"

"No."

"If this is a joke Shane, I'm not in the mood," Tony informed him coldly but Shane didn't even seem annoyed.

"Kate had an abortion just before she came to Salem, and who do you suppose performed it?"

Tony didn't need more than one guess. "Rolf." And he knew immediately what Shane was insinuating, between Rolf and his father, anything was possible, no matter how young the fetus might have been, or Kate's feelings on the matter, or hell if she even knew what they'd done and then his mind returned to the conversation he and Marlena had overheard all those years ago as they lay huddled in the air duct, listening to Stefano and Andre's argument. "I don't think the baby, if one exists, was fathered by Stefano."

That took Shane by surprise. "I thought you didn't know Kate before Salem."

"That's right, I didn't," said Tony, trying to maintain an even temper, "but it appears someone is determined that I recover my past all of the sudden, and that includes information I picked up that Stefano wanted to make sure I'd be unable to use."

"Then if the child wasn't Stefano's…"

Tony's chuckle reeked of sarcasm. "Oh, you're going to love this one, seems she had a thing for my cousin.

Shane coughed into the phone as though he swallowed whatever he was drinking to quickly. "Are you sure?"

"We overheard Andre discussing it with Stefano."

"We?"

"Marlena and I."

Though Shane knew he shouldn't have been shocked, he was. Perhaps it was the causal way it came out of Tony's mouth, as though he'd finally accepted that the two of them had a past together, that he wasn't resisting the idea any longer, which meant he'd remembered everything and maybe even discovered his fears were unfounded but confirming that bit of information could wait. "When?"

"The day after Rolf and Andre removed the twins from the compound."

Shane thought back to his conversation with Colin. The timing would work give or take a couple of months, but if the child really did belong to Andre… "Why would Stefano bother saving Andre's child?"

"Ahh, Father's mantra…never throw anything away that might prove handy in the future, especially if the child in question can be used to blackmail or destroy."

Shane could understand and sympathize with the bitterness in his friend's voice. "Tony, I need to know what happened after the twins were born."

A long moment of silence met his request and he began to second guess his assumption about what Tony had learned of his past. "What happened…" Tony's voice was stiff. "I screwed up is what happened, let Stefano use me to hurt people I cared about, let myself get sucked back into his world, that…insanity and it cost too much I'm afraid."

"Cost who?"

"The twins, Marlena, and…" he sucked in a deep breath, "someone who was a friend and certainly didn't deserve what happened to him or his family."

"Someone who got caught in the middle?" asked Shane gently.

"My god, that sounds so clean, as though all he had to do was step out of the way…" his voice trailed off and Shane could hear the pain hovering at the edge. "Why the hell did I ever go back there?"

"To the compound?"

More silence and then, "No." He could hear Tony sigh. "I was so bloody certain when he dragged me back after I married Anna that I had no choice, that disappearing and walking away from her was the right thing…not that I believed he'd stop completely but I thought if I defied him and came back to Salem, he'd make everyone suffer for it but that's what happened anyway and he managed to make me part of it…and all that craziness between Kristen and John and myself…bloody hell, if I'd just stayed away…"

"Tony, we both know your father better than that. If you'd defied him, the consequences might have been worse than they are already."

"Maybe, but at least I wouldn't feel so damn responsible," Tony snarled.

Shane smiled bitterly to himself. He knew things didn't work that way and he knew Tony was well aware of that too but hearing him take it out on himself was an improvement on hearing him lash out at John. "What happened to your friend?"

"Stefano… executed him, for helping me and attempting to take Marlena home, and worse, his son feels he's to blame for it."

"Was he?"

"How precisely is a six year old responsible for an act such as that?"

"Oh." It was amazing to Shane that after all the time he'd spent in the ISA, all the terrorist cases he'd worked on, the horror he'd witnessed that hearing things like this could still affect him so deeply. A good sign but not something he was comfortable with. And he found it just as amazing that Tony, who'd been rather jaded before he disappeared from Salem ten years earlier seemed just as upset which Shane attributed to the predicament the twins were in, and fearing Stefano had control of them. It had to be eating him up. Being an agent, it was a fear Shane was forced to put up with daily and one he lived through when Andrew disappeared as a baby. The terror he'd experienced then was a feeling he'd never allowed himself to forget, and not just his own but Kim's too. The thought of her made him want to sigh. "That would be your father's typical response of course," he said, trying to focus on the conversation again, "shift the blame to anyone else available, no matter what their age."

"Yes," Tony agreed but didn't continue and Shane wondered if he was going to have to drag the rest of the story out of him.

"And?"

"Well let's see…I slept with my brother's wife, shot my father and almost got the twins killed. Would you like me to continue?"

'There's more?"

"You know what the worse part is," he said in such a calm, matter of fact way that Shane began to question his sanity, "I know now that Colin is right, something happened years ago before any of us came to Salem and whatever it is, I couldn't get Rolf or Andre to talk about it. I can't even imagine what would have the potential to frighten them to such an extent."

Shane didn't like that sound of that. "Andre wouldn't discuss it?"

"He was quite reluctant, even warned me not to ask unless I was truly serious and I doubt it had anything to do with how Stefano would feel because they'd already had it out, so to speak."

"The conversation you and Marlena overhead. How did that end?"

"Since Andre got himself into the middle of something he wasn't supposed to be involved in, how do you think?"

"Not well."

Shane's dry humor got a chuckle out of Tony. "Stefano shot him too, though not with the same results."

"Christ, was there anyone who got out in one piece?"

"Rolf."

The venom in Tony's voice was unmistakable suddenly in a way that Shane had only heard when Tony mentioned his father or Andre. Considering the doctor's part in creating the twins and keeping them virtual prisoners, that was understandable along with their suspicion that Rolf was working for Andre and as he thought about this, pieces of their conversation clicked into place in Shane's mind...Andre had been shot, and Stefano and yet Tony had been unable to get Marlena home. Added to that, he and Tony had discussed in Montreal the possibility that Tony had done something in the midst of trying to help Marlena that might have caused Rolf to change his allegiance.

"But I have a feeling," continued Tony after a moment before Shane spoke up, "his past is about to catch up with him."

"He is working for Andre." Shane didn't even make it a question.

"Oh yes. Where the good doctor is concerned, I'm the last person on earth he'd accept in control of the family." There was a slight pause and then, "He tried to kill me Shane. And it wasn't on anyone's orders, certainly not Stefano's. It was personal."

"Why?"

"I thought it was because of what Sebastian and I did...we needed his services to keep the twins alive and I had to ensure that he was no longer under Stefano's control and he wasn't interested when I asked politely, so…"

"You tried to make it mandatory."

"Yes and Sebastian was none too gentle about it either."

"You don't think that would be reason enough to make him angry?"

"Given what I know about his personality now, possibly. That man is depraved. I can barely even contemplate the fact that he's had the twins in his care since they were born."

Listening to the raw emotion rumbling beneath Tony's accent sent an icy shiver through Shane. "He couldn't be anymore of a monster than Stefano, surely."

"He…" Tony had to stop and swallow past the lump in his throat. "…was determined to punish Sebastian and when he learned I'd helped him get away, he threatened Marlena to get me to comply…I couldn't…" Tony breath was shaky and he had to take several before he could get the rest out. "He threatened to pass her around to all of the guards."

Words failed Shane at first. Stefano's track record was none too pretty and he'd had done more than his share of sick and despicable things over the years but it was impossible for Shane to believe that he'd condone this type of behavior…Andre on the other hand was another matter. "Tell me at least that he didn't threaten to do this in front of her."

"No, and considering the man is still alive, I suspect Stefano never learned about it either."

"Or that he tried to kill you?"

"That I'm afraid he couldn't have missed because when Marlena finally got him down out of the laboratory to put a stop to the whole nightmare, I already had a knife in my belly but I doubt Stefano would have held Rolf responsible since I very nearly killed him the day before."

"How much do you remember after that?"

"Nothing." Tony's voice came through flat and stark. "It's like a black hole. I don't know what the hell they did to me for god knows how many months except that I recognized that laboratory. The blackouts I've been experiencing, the ones were I'd see myself lying on the bed, that is where it happened. And after my argument with Stefano, I don't like imagining what was done to me. I'm almost certain now that he deliberately set up John and Kristen and I."

"Deliberately…" Shane almost forgot himself and laughed, "how?"

"He fixed it so I would find Marlena, _on_ purpose Shane, hoping or expecting that we'd get involved and stupid me, I took the bait."

"But you didn't know who John was at the time."

"That was the idea, he didn't want me to know and when Andre arranged for me to find out, he was incredibly furious."

"Ahh, so Andre leaked the information to you and ruined Stefano's plans before you and Marlena had a chance to..."

But Tony quickly interrupted his assumptions. "Whatever Stefano was hoping for in the way of an emotion attachment, he failed."

"You sure about that?" asked Shane, not liking to press the issue but needing an honest answer.

"Yes, I'm sure," Tony said with only the barest hint of impatience.

Shane could hear the sincerity in his voice but still he hesitated. He knew how long the two of them had been friends, or at least heard enough after Tony's disappearance to convince him that there had been a time where the two shared a mutual respect and a tie created by the events they'd experienced, and the situation they'd found themselves in at the compound; incredibly stressful, dangerous, not to mention completely out of their control might have cemented that bond, not as strong or deep as the one each of them shared with their respective partners but it was still a reality nonetheless. They'd not simply be able to will it away because it was inconvenient. And there were the twins. They weren't going anywhere either and the fact they could be in danger provided a way of forcing the issue should Stefano decide to use it. If someone was able to bring Tony's memory back, it would be only a matter of time before Marlena's returned as well and what would happen when she remembered this harrowing experience? Tony had risked his position, his father's recriminations and his life to help her escape, to send her home to her family. Shane couldn't help but imagine what it did to her as she followed Stefano into that room to find Tony bleeding to death on the floor. And though he understood that Tony wanted to convince himself that it all meant nothing, Shane was certain that was not going to work. Of course, pointing that fact out to him would certainly not get Shane very far either. "Okay, so he tried to set you and Marlena up and when that fell apart, you think he just moved on and tried the same thing with someone else…Kristen."

"When I told him his plan had failed, he laughed, and asked when I'd ever known him not to have a contingency plan."

"So what are you thinking?"

He could almost see Tony's frustrated shrug as he answered. "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"After the story I just heard?' Shane bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Try me."

"Well, he's manipulated everyone involved, so why not John and Kristen along with the rest of us?"

Actually, Shane had to admit that sounded about right, if perfectly illogical. "But you've assumed that for months now."

"I'm not talking about backhanded things he might have done to push the two of them together, hoping he'd get a spark, I suspect it was much more than that, after all, he had John for years. What's to say John and Kristen didn't know each other before Salem?"

"And that was the reason they were drawn together."

"Something like that."

Shane had to admit there did seem to be a pattern, first Ellie and then Marlena and Kristen, and with each succeeding case, the stakes were raised a little higher. "So why not use Anna the same way?"

"Anna." Tony's voice almost cracked with the strain to keep control of himself. He'd obviously thought about this already and Shane could understand why it terrified him. Ellie and Kristen were both dead. "To tell you the truth, I have no idea. More trouble than it was worth perhaps?"

And Shane chuckled. A pretty accurate guess most likely. Trying to control Anna would meet with about as much success as trying to control a force of nature. She simply didn't operate in the acceptable parameters, a mistake Stefano learned the hard way when he allowed Andre to get involved with her and Stefano was not a man to repeat the same mistakes over again. "Tony, you know what this means if you're right…"

"About Anna?"

"No."

"Oh…" From the reluctance in his tone, it didn't appear Tony liked this idea or felt comfortable about discussing it, "you mean Marlena."

"No matter what you told him back at that compound, he's not given up on the idea. Kristen and Ellie might be dead, but Marlena is still very much alive and…"

"It doesn't matter. She despises me," Tony pointed out, "and besides I can't believe for an instant that Stefano really wants this. He's been obsessed with her for years."

"You haven't seen a change in him since you came out of the coma?"

Shane's suggestion gave Tony pause. In fact, he'd given some thought to why Stefano would be pushing him to go after Marlena and assumed it was either a screen to keep him busy or a way to piss off John because he'd never really believed his father capable of letting go. Once he chose a course of action, it led to a conclusion, good or bad but he didn't simply turn around and give up. That wasn't Stefano. But Tony reminded himself, Stefano was also a man of complex emotions and the one which had obsessed him long before Marlena was his family. Their survival, if threatened, might possibly alter his priorities. "Are you suggesting the danger Andre poses has made him see the light, so to speak?"

"I don't know. You tell me, is that possible?"

"I guess he did change his tact after the debacle in Paris. If he learned Andre had survived Aremid, that he set it up as a means to destroy us while Stefano was off, too busy trying to get his hands on Marlena and so allowed it to happen…that might have wounded his pride enough…I know Eugene believes Stefano still cares about us and in his sick way, perhaps he does but he acts from his pride," said Tony, the bitter tone returning, "not anything that could be mistaken for love."

"If that is the case, I'm afraid it's only a matter of time before Stefano or Andre, or whoever the hell is manipulating the situation makes certain that Marlena remembers everything too."

Tony's mouth felt dry at the thought. "Grand."

"What about Anna?"

Just hearing Shane ask the question sent guilt and pain coursing through him. "I've thought about that and," he took a deep breath, "I need to tell her, but it has to be in person. Face to face."

"You can't go to Paris right now."

"Yes, I know," Tony said, not arguing which for some reason made Shane nervous.

"Alright, so you have another location in mind?"

"I want her to come to Salem."


	40. Chapter ThirtyNine

Time: March 2003

Place: Salem

Shane thought he must have heard wrong. "Did you just say you want Anna of all people in Salem?"

"Yes." The word came across with unmistakable assurance. "I've had quite a bit of time to think about this and I've come up with a scenario that will work I believe and provide a number of fringe benefits as well, so just hear me out."

Irritated about having to listen to whatever wild scheme Tony had cooked up this time, Shane scowled at the phone. "This is crazy," he muttered to himself and then louder. "Well?"

"First, I've hit the jackpot." Shane could tell that Tony was quite pleased with himself. "I've discovered the leverage we needed to finesse Victor. He'll be forced to sell me Echelon now. Do you know," laughed Tony suddenly, "who he believes killed Colin?"

"I take it not you, since you think you have a chance of talking him into this."

"His lovely but extremely devious new bride."

Glee skipped through every syllable, making Tony's accent even more noticeable as he related this juicy tidbit of gossip and the irony did give Shane a laugh. "Well, well," he chuckled, "she does sound delightfully low and..." he grin grew wider, "exactly what the bastard deserves." The idea of Victor brought to his knees by a floozy, and one barely more than a child at that was an image he'd have given anything to share with Kimberly. He couldn't help but wonder what she thought of such antics on the part of their old nemesis. "So he thinks it is Nicole who has put his precious grandson in danger. That is simply too superb."

"Have to say his taste in women is slipping," laughed Tony.

Though the image tickled him, Shane wasn't about to discuss Victor's past with the Count. "So, he'll be desperate to send Welsh back to prison for this murder, now more so than ever."

"That would be my guess, and thanks to Andre, Victor won't even be suspicious if I threaten Welsh with retribution after what he did to Alexandra. I'll be able to demand any price of him when I'm magnanimous enough to leave the situation alone, anything I desire."

It had been a long time since Shane had experienced feeling such a degree of satisfaction. The thought of Victor squeezed into dealing with Tony definitely brightened his day "I wish I could be around to see his face when you spring that on him but what exactly does this have to do with Anna?"

"It has to do with a number or people really, and the art of perception."

"Oh?"

"I'd say I have a zero chance in hell of keeping ownership of this place a secret for long, not with John snooping into every bloody corner of my life these days so perhaps its time to make them all…believers."

That had an ominous ring to it but Shane had to admit he was intrigued. No matter what wrench he threw at Tony, the man figured a way to use it to his advantage and if it helped them keep John convinced that Tony was after something which in reality was nothing more than a smokescreen, that might just give the two of them a chance to dig up the rest of whatever Stefano was hiding, and what exactly he had planned. It might also give them enough time to discover John's part in all of this too. Shane had talked to Eugene again while he was in Haiti. Granted, he was Tony's cousin and from comments he'd made, it was obvious he didn't think too much of John Black, but his logic couldn't be ignored. The fact was, Stefano sent John to Salem as a replacement for Roman. Somehow that fit into the rest of the puzzle of John's missing past; his parentage, his marriage that seemed to have ended abruptly, perhaps even tragically, Andre's hatred for him that had no rhyme or reason, the death of Ellie's twins who Stefano had believed at the time to be his grandchildren, and finally the mysterious hatred Stefano bore Shawn and his family. The more they learned, the more convinced Shane was that everything fit together, but finding the missing pieces was turning into race against the clock. They had to find them before Stefano took advantage of his ace card and used to the twins to blackmail Tony.

How much time they had left was still not entirely clear. Since Montreal, Shane had managed to obtain some satellite shots of the island where Stefano was building his replica of Salem. So far, only the area on the eastern side showed any progress but once construction began on the rest of the homes, the game would be up.

"Okay, so you plan to reel them all in and make them think ownership of Echelon is a serious venture."

"John will be certain of it anyway and won't question it. He'll see it as me showing my true colors."

"So will Marlena."

The hesitation lasted less than a second but still it was noticeable. "Yes."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Do I have much choice?" Tony countered, the irritation evident in his voice. "If you recall, this wasn't my idea."

"Alright, but you still haven't explained what the hell this has to do with Anna," said Shane, who wasn't all that happy to be reminded that this was his doing.

"Anna…" Tony took a deep breath. "That part is simple really, with your assistance, I'm going to set up a little charade designed to make it look as though I'm in so deep that John will be thrilled to announce it to the world, as well as reeling in a few other key players, namely Kate, and her son, however I'll need the services of your friend from Montreal and whoever you sent off to San Moritz with Martin last New Years, posing as Anna."

"My friend, the one we left in the hotel in Montreal, pretending to be you."

"Exactly."

"And what would you have him doing exactly?"

"Nothing too strenuous. An evening of romancing Kate, in public so that John and Roman and whoever else is interested can't miss the display, and then some action on the side with an exquisite lady who Lucas is going to believe is a very close friend of mine, one whose services I pay for in the evenings."

"What, did you research his favorite brothel?"

Tony's voice was once again amused. "It wasn't that difficult, he visits the place pretty regularly."

The logistics were vague but Shane got the gist of what Tony was planning. Hook Lucas, who was at loose ends lately and in need of a job and a direction in his life and if Tony could pull it off so that Lucas had some responsibility in running Echelon, Kate would hit the roof. "And while all of this is going on during the evening, you'll be off, explaining things to Anna."

"Yes," The drawl in Tony's voice was dry. He wasn't looking forward to this reunion and Shane couldn't blame him. Anna might be crazy about Tony but her jealous temper was legendary and Shane had witnessed it first hand on one too many occasions and knew that he wanted to be as far away as possible when she learned about Marlena, on a separate continent sounded just fine to him.

"Okay, I'll make the arrangements with Gregory."

"And Shane…"

"Yes?"

"I need you to talk to Anna about this trip in person."

Shane scowled at the receiver. "Why?" he snapped.

He could hear Tony sigh on the other end of the line. "Do you really require an explanation for that? Christ, pretend its Kimberly."

That reminder smoothed out Shane's irritation and he relented. The fact was, as precarious as Tony's position was right now, Shane would beg, borrow or steal the opportunity to trade places with him if it meant he and Kimberly were back together. After their last argument, Shane had figured the chances of that ever happening would be after hell froze over but then she'd called him and suggested a week in England, all four of them as a family so that Jeannie could spend some time with her brother who was at school. The suspicion had kicked in immediately of course. She wanted something. Considering what was going on in Salem, he had a pretty good idea of what the week would consist of when the children were on their own too…Kim was stubborn and she wasn't about to give up the notion that he investigate Tony's activities but even knowing this was probably the case, he'd been unable to pass up an entire week in her company. How he'd put her off this idea, he hadn't a clue but he'd worry about that later.

"I'll go speak to her," said Shane after a few moments, "but I need a favor out of you."

"You want me to find someone to meet Ellie's brother."

"Someone who won't raise suspicion."

Tony snorted. "Anyone connected to me in any manner will raise suspicion with Stefano and if they ask questions about events I'm not supposed to remember and the Torricelli's are still in business with Stefano, the meeting is bound to get back to him."

"Do they still retain a business connection?"

"Not that I can find evidence of, but you know the way things work in…"

"Stefano's world, yes, under the table, isn't that the expression?"

That got a laugh out of Tony. "An interesting euphuism for having underworld associates but yes, that would be the idea more or less."

"Well, in that case, perhaps you ought to try and speak to him yourself."

Tony chewed on his lip as he thought about Shane's suggestion. This had been a quandary he'd wrestled with since Montreal. He couldn't ask Eugene. Stefano had no idea his cousin was once again involved with Tony and keeping it that way was a priority. The only other person he trusted besides Shane was Martin but that was a risk Tony didn't like either, not with all the trouble they'd gone setting up the guise of Martin and Anna's relationship. If Martin got involved with the Torricelli's, Stefano would be instantly on his guard and probably start digging.

"I'll consider it. What is his given name, by the way?"

"Ah, just a second…" There was the muffled sound of papers being shoved out of the way as Shane hunted for the right one. "…here it is. His name is Lorenzo."

"Lorenzo." Tony let the name roll off his tongue and tried to locate a face to match it from his memory but nothing fit.

"Doesn't ring a bell?"

"No," replied Tony pensively. "but once I meet him, perhaps it will."

"So you'll take care of this chore yourself."

That pretty much described how Tony felt about this meeting…a thoroughly distasteful chore. Since regaining his memory, Tony frankly anticipated Mr. Torricelli telling him something appalling, partially because of Andre's warning, but also because Tony couldn't conceive of any other reason for Stefano's behavior towards John. Tony had come to accept that the information Colin shared with them in Montreal for the most part because it matched the bits and pieces he'd recovered of his memory and so it appeared that there had been a time when Stefano relied on John, and treated him, if not his own, then at least with respect and care and intended that he would become a dependable member of his organization.

There was simply no way in hell that Stefano would have trusted John as a stepfather to Ellie's children unless that was the case.

He'd meant to bring John in and make him a member of the family.

Stefano's words echoed in his head as they had in his dreams since his return from the compound…"I trusted him completely…raised John as my own…"

If there was one thing Tony had experience with, it was knowing what Stefano was capable of once he'd been betrayed.

"Tony…" Shane's voice started him.

"Um, yes," he replied, "yes, I'll contact him myself."

"And let me know what he says."

"Of course."

Silence hovered between them and the last seemingly obvious question pulled Tony out of his own worries. "What are you thinking?" he asked curious, but not certain that Shane would open up.

"That we're about to discover we're in possession of Pandora's Box."

So, the gut feelings he'd experienced, the ones telling him that this was all about to blow up on them wasn't merely his own overwrought imagination at work. "This could just be smoke and mirrors, Shane. It's Stefano…"

"But you don't believe that."

Tony's laughter crackled painfully through the receiver and was all the answer either of them needed.

"And there's something else I think we need to consider," said Shane once the silence took over again.

"What?"

"The twins."

"And what Stefano has planned for them?"

"Or Andre…or worse, both of them."

Tony hadn't planned on bringing up the idea he'd been working on but changed his mind now. Though he could probably pull it off on his own, having Shane's assistance would increase the odds of success so that it fooled all the parties involved in this mess, particularly the twins and Stefano. "What if we were able to turn this situation around and use Rolf's past against him...convince my father Rolf lied to him about just who the twins belong to."

Shane frowned. "I don't see how that could work. Stefano has proof of their DNA."

"Outside proof?"

Leaning back into his chair, he mulled over what Tony was suggesting. After all, Stefano was not a trusting man, though it was not completely outside the realm of possibility that he'd accepted Rolf's word on the DNA results, especially if he'd had no reason suspect the doctor's honesty, or loyalty. "So you are hoping he would accept Rolf's word, even after he learned the man had ties to Andre?"

"I think there is a chance," Tony said slowly, choosing his words carefully now, "and at this point, I'm willing to try anything. Even if it doesn't work with Stefano, it could get bring Andre out of whatever hole he's buried in, especially if we were able to make it look as though one of the twins' parents was Kate."

Shane whistled softly. "You do enjoy living dangerously. Were you considering Andre as the other parent?"

"For about two seconds. The idea here is to take them out of harms way. Making them Andre's children will only make their situation worse."

"So?"

"What if we made both Stefano and Andre think they'd been betrayed?"

"How?"

"Make the father Roman."

'My God, that is…"

"Brilliant?" laughed Tony.

"More like insanely twisted."

"Why thank you."

"It will also let Stefano know that you're onto him about what Kate is doing."

"Well, making him think I'm playing along hasn't worked so far, maybe its time to change my tact."

Shane did bother reminding Tony how dangerous that could be. He was already aware of that. "So you feel it's time to rock the boat."

"And see what kind of reaction I get, yes."

"If I were you, I'd be more concerned with Anna's reaction right now."

But Tony just laughed. He was already prepared for an explosion when Anna arrived. Unlike Shane, that prospect didn't bother him and except for the fact that he worried she'd be hurt by the events he'd remembered, he had no fears about the information coming between them or creating a rift. The one thing they'd always been able to do was work through their problems and he was the first to admit just what a kick he got out of arguing with Anna.

Shane cleared his throat, perhaps in disapproval and asked, "Do you need Patrick's assistance with the DNA results?"

"Eventually. This will carry much more weight with all the parties involved though it if were to come from another source, one above suspicion."

"I thought I was above suspicion."

"And we want to keep it that way," Tony said sharply.

"Okay…then who?"

Tony took a deep breath. "Rex."

There was a snort of laughter for the other end of the line, quickly cut short. "And who is going to believe that you had nothing to do with that?"

"I had nothing to do with him being suspicious in the first place. He's already digging around, trying to figure out what he needs in order to do a DNA test of his own and as long as the results are exposed by him, everyone here in town will accept the result with glee and as for Stefano…the worst that can happen is that he already knows its impossible but we've got to try something at least."

"What about Rex and Cassie and how they'll feel?"

Cold silence met Shane's question and he realized immediately that Tony considered this aspect of the problem none of Shane's business but Shane plowed ahead anyway. He didn't like the implication he was hearing. "You're talking about putting them through the wringer all over again, believing two perfect strangers are their parents all so that you can sell Rolf down the river."

"If you honestly believe that, we have nothing left to say," The words were flung at him in quiet, lethal voice.

"Tony…"

"I am _not_ the one who started this."

"I know that."

"And I'll do whatever I damn well see fit to keep them safe and I sure as hell don't remember asking for your approval."

"And I wasn't giving it. I was pointing out…"

"The obvious," Tony cut in with a snarl, "which I've done little else but think about for weeks now. There is no bloody way out of this mess without them getting hurt This is Stefano we're talking about here, for christ's sake. They'll be lucky not to end up dead."

"And there is someone else's feelings you'll be…"

"DON'T."

The word shot through the phone with a shattering ferocity Shane had never heard out of Tony before and an uneasy, awkward silence descended.

Tony sat in the car, facing the front but not really seeing anything outside of the car. He could barely contain his need to act on his anger. How dare Shane judge him or suggest he'd allow his need for revenge to come before his children's safety. Unlocking the door, he shoved it open and gulped in a lung full of air so cold it sent razor sharp pains through his chest. "Damn you," he whispered. He leaned his head against the steering wheel and tried to breath normally. How he wanted to curse Stefano for this mess but he knew now that he'd brought on at least some of it himself after what he'd done at the compound and the thought that his father was more than capable of taking out his revenge using Tony's children terrified him. He had to find a way to try and keep them safe. There had to be _something_ he could do.

"Tony…" The voice came through the phone he'd dropped onto his lap.

He sighed and picked it up. "What?"

"I just want you to think about the consequences before you set something into motion that could backfire."

Tony opened his mouth to argue but nothing came out. Shane was right. So much of the disaster at the compound had been of his own creation. He'd let Stefano goad him into the shooting. Damn it, if only the timing had been different. Once he provided the information his father needed to drag Sebastian and Marlena back, it gave Rolf the power to destroy all of them. "If you have an alternative, I'll gladly listen," he said finally.

Now it was Shane's turn to sit and fume. "You know I don't. I'm just asking you to wait."

"Rex is not going to wait."

"You're certain he's begun doing this..."

"Yes."

Shane swore viciously under his breath. "It seems your son picked up one DiMera trait alright."

"Pigheaded stubbornness?" Tony didn't sound any happier about this than Shane at least but Shane's sense of humor was gone at this point.

"You people are going to put me in an early grave."

Tony chuckled but it was definitely forced. "At the rate things are going, I'm afraid that's a place we could all end up."


	41. Chapter Forty

Time: Late March 2003

Place: Italy

Andre glared at the drunk working his way up the bleachers for the third time. He'd tripped and spilled half his beer already, soaking Andre's shoe and sock and though the weather was warming here in the southern end of the Italian peninsula, Andre didn't appreciate the smell or the fact that he couldn't afford to take out his aggravation and slit the man's throat. He settled for hollering at him. The man looked petrified and mumbling an apology in Italian, managed to trip on the next three steps as well in his haste to get as far away as possible from those intimidating eyes, like two black fathomless pools of ice.

"Pig," sneered Andre, letting his gaze scour the crowd, then turned back towards the track, using his binoculars once more. It was impossible to miss him. On a basketball court maybe not but most drivers weren't close to six feet so the kid couldn't hide, even if he'd realized the necessity.

His fingers rubbing at his temple, Andre made another effort to remember who the hell the boy's mother might be. From the age Stefano provided, it could frankly be any number of women, many whose names and faces were a blur but then there were the pictures he'd obtained recently, and after studying them, Andre thought it possible Mr. Wells wasn't as young as Stefano expected him to believe and if that were the case, the boy's mother could only be one woman…Kate.

Andre sat a moment, contemplating and then reached for the note again:

Nephew,

I understand that you've come to the mistaken conclusion that I am no longer in possession of anything you hold dear. Enclosed you will find proof that will confirm otherwise. Should Tony remember anything else about his past, your son will follow his brother to a tragic and early grave.

If you doubt the boy's paternity, I'm certain Dr. Rolf will provide you with all the assurance necessary.

Along with this brief message was a picture, a newspaper clipping of EJ's exploits on the racing circuit, and a birth certificate, not necessarily sporting the correct dates…but no Rolf. Andre was positive that the note found its way to him because of his partner, but the doctor himself had vanished without a trace, gone underground, running from his past and Andre's questions apparently. That was a blunder. Now he had not only Tony after him, but Andre too and he got the feeling, Stefano as well. Even if Rolf had been wise enough to pool his resources in the event of this day coming to pass, eventually he'd fall prey to one of them, and only Andre would provide him a quick and painless death at this point.

The boy had collected his prize for the second race of the day and flushed with his victory, accepted the attention that was his due, mostly from a crowd of young attractive woman and Andre smirked. In spite of his height and pale complexion, he'd inherited one DiMera gene at least.

"So, my son," he mused to himself, "how do I keep you alive and still have my way with Tony?" He'd come too close to reaching his objective to quit now and it irked him that after all Tony had done, Stefano still protected him. Shaking his head, he swore to himself that if he and his children were going to suffer for his transgressions, they'd not do so all alone. He'd have his revenge, on Stefano and the two men his uncle had been fool enough to trust and protect. He'd turn the tables on all of them and in the end, Stefano would die knowing his children were helpless and he'd lost everything to Andre. "You're slipping old man," he chuckled as he continued to watch EJ out in the center of the track. Stefano was beginning to get desperate and desperate men made mistakes, this one being a whopper because once Kate learned her son was alive and just who was responsible for using him, her allegiance would take a radical shift and Stefano would be stuck.

He'd not be able to afford to murder EJ if Kate knew the truth, no matter what Andre did to Tony.

The trick was getting mother and son together in a way that didn't reveal his hand in the matter. He couldn't contact the boy. And Kate wouldn't believe anything he told her at this point as she'd suspect him of trying to manipulate her into changing sides but the young man did seem to have his weaknesses as did another of Kate's sons.

Even as a toddler, Lucas had irritated Andre and the plan taking shape in his mind produced an evil grin.

It was nothing less than Kate deserved for her betrayal. And the beauty of it being that the deciding blow would be delivered by the son she never wanted after judging Andre unfaithful, a child she'd tried to abort. What pleasure Stefano had taken in passing that news to Andre, along with Kate's decision to call off the wedding.

"Ah yes, my darling Kate, you chose the wrong DiMera, and it is going to cost you dearly….everything in fact because by the time I'm done, even your son, your beloved Horton offspring will disown you…you'll be all alone," he breathed in a murmur, his smile wearing a sinister, bitter twist to it now, "…so very alone."


	42. Chapter FortyOne

Place: New York

Time: Same Day

"How do you do, Count DiMera."

The hand reaching out his shake his belonged to a man so much younger than Tony had been expecting, perhaps ten years his junior and it occurred to him that the elegantly tailored gentleman couldn't have been more than a teenager at the time of his sister's death. That would definitely have colored his outlook on the situation.

"Ah, Mr. Torricelli," replied Tony with a brilliant smile that lit up his face, "it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance after so many years," Behind the façade, he was trying vainly to recognize a hint of the boy he might have known once.

"Lorenzo," said the younger man with a smooth nod, "please." He eyed Tony curiously. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Tony's smile became polite and reserved. "I'm afraid I don't. Should I?"

"Probably not. We met at a party your father hosted just after your return from Australia but there were hundreds of people there. He must have invited the whole damn province."

"I do recall that night, vaguely…"

"You were busy amusing yourself and making the acquaintance of every pretty and eligible, not to mention all the not so eligible ladies." Lorenzo picked up the martini he'd been drinking as he waited for Tony's arrival and led the way to the table he'd reserved at his club. "I believe it was the first time you met Eleanor."

"Sounds like something Stefano would pull," said Tony, "no doubt set up entirely for that purpose. My father simply adored opportunities for creating mischief."

There was a gleam in Lorenzo's eyes at that comment uttered with such dry amusement, and as he took his seat, Lorenzo sized up this worldly but rather puzzling man before him. Of course in Italy, the DiMeras had a reputation for flamboyance and piracy. They were witty, elegant and even generous when the mood took them but savage if crossed, and would cut an opponent's throat without scruple for no better reason than an imagined slight. Lorenzo had suspected for years that the family's reputation appealed to his sister's romantic sensibilities, a failing she tried to pass off as shrewd ambition. He knew she relished the idea of the position she'd have one day as the mother of a DiMera heir but the fact was she had no clue when it came to the consequences. She'd made a deal with the devil not even comprehending the gravity of her position because she was too busy trying to put one over on the potential mate involved. Tony being a stranger didn't bother her at first, and later when she realized there was no spark between them, she brushed that off as well. She may not have loved him, but she admitted to finding him a curious challenge which really meant she considered him a new toy.

When Tony refused the union, she'd been outraged, a flaming bitch to deal with for weeks on end until the day she'd met _him_.

What a boy compared to the Count, but handsome in an American sort of way, raw but sincere, though he'd looked somewhat more like his brother back then, not that Lorenzo had realized the connection. Stefano had done all in his power to keep that a secret, especially from the two men it mattered to the most and Lorenzo never could understand the elder DiMera's rational in the beginning. If the Count and his brother had known the truth, things might have turned out differently but then twisted was the word that came to mind when he thought of the DiMeras, hell bent on utter destruction, their own and anyone else unlucky enough to get sucked into their world.

"Would you care for a drink," he said, signaling his favorite waiter and for the next ten minutes, they concentrated on ordering their dinner.

When they'd finished and the waiter was gone, Lorenzo wasted no time. "So tell me Count…"

"Tony."

Lorenzo tried to read the intent in his dinner companion's face. "Tony…what is it you require of me?"

The younger man's directness might have amused Tony in a different situation but there was so little about this state of affairs that did anything other than depress him and he wanted this over with and the truth out in the open. "Information, about your sister and her husband."

Dark measuring eyes gazed back at him evenly. "You could simply ask your brother."

So, the secret was out, though Tony silently and he couldn't help but wonder for how long Lorenzo been privy to this information. For all Tony knew, the entire fucking province in Italy could have guessed the truth and he'd still be the last to learn if that was Stefano's order. "Unfortunately, his memory of Ellie is even more…or should I say less substantial than mine thanks to my father, who isn't talking either and so I'm forced to trouble you and rely on your…" he used his hand to gesture in Lorenzo's direction, "discretion, and your honor."

The sincerity in his voice was impossible to miss, or ignore and frankly, totally unexpected.

"A DiMera discussing honor," laughed Lorenzo bitterly. "That would amuse Ellie if she were here."

"I could say the same," returned Tony in a steady, but rather cool tone.

"Just what are you suggesting?"

Tony shrugged. "Only that I believe we are both well aware of what your sister's ambitions were, and what she was willing to do in order to get what she wanted."

"She was happy before the DiMeras came into her life, before my father told her about you," snapped Lorenzo, irritated at the liberties the count assumed, "she always had her family and friends who loved her and would support her..."

"But it wasn't enough for her, was it?"

Tony's shrewd gaze caught the other man at just the moment when the truth of his words hit home and though Lorenzo abhorred the fact, he couldn't bring himself to disagree. He'd long accepted after his last conversation with his sister that the pregnancy was her idea, that she'd purposely made an effort to trap Tony into marriage when he resisted agreeing to it immediately and it was one of the reasons she'd been so bitter when he refused her completely. "Alright," he sighed, though he was still annoyed "what information are you looking for?"

"I need to know what happened between Eleanor and my brother. I have some memory regarding her death, that it was ruled an accident but then I was told recently that may not be the case. Now I'm hearing that John and…"he hesitated at this point but taking a deep breath, continued, "I might have had something to do with what transpired."

"You don't remember any of it?" Lorenzo was clearly incredulous and Tony shook his head.

"No," he raised an eyebrow, "why?"

"Because I thought, when I heard about it…the bad blood between you and your brother I mean, that it must be a result of…"

"…him seducing my wife actually."

An awkward silence ensued and then, "Yes, I did hear about that but I assumed, perhaps incorrectly, that your rivalry started before that, considering some of what befell John, and it had to do with what happened to your children." Lorenzo's eyes met his now, searching for the truth. "That you were after revenge."

Tony literally felt his heart stop. "Revenge for what?"

"Their death."

"Are you telling me that John was responsible…" Tony had to swallow a couple of times to get the rest out, "…that he's the reason they're dead?"

Lorenzo shifted his position in his chair as though he was uncomfortable. "I must be honest with you Count DiMera, I have no proof…"

"But?"

He opened his mouth to speak and the waiter arrived with Tony's drink, and the man took his time about fussing at the table so that Tony eyed him sharply. He took the hint and disappeared, leaving Lorenzo to continue his explanation but he seemed to be having second thoughts. "I've kept silent all these years because I have no desire to see Eleanor's fate visited upon anyone else in my family."

For a moment there, Tony wasn't sure if he ought to feel flattered or insulted. "Are you worried about my reaction?"

"Not exactly," he replied, but didn't elaborate and Tony was left wondering if he feared John or he suspected Stefano was still alive. Probably the latter. Everyone else did after all.

"I'm afraid I can only offer you assurances for myself."

That certainly didn't encourage Lorenzo's desire to share the information he was withholding and since he believed Tony had a hand in John's fate over the last twenty years, it wasn't too surprising really but Tony was determined. He'd come here to get to the bottom of this mystery. "Do you have children, Mr. Torricelli?"

Tilting his head to one side, Lorenzo nodded in the affirmative.

"And if someone took them, ripped the memory of them away from you and tore a piece out of your soul…"

"I'd carve them up personally."

It was a gut reaction but the words slid out quietly, the vehemence in them controlled to a point that might have fooled anyone lacking experience in the ways of the old world. It was a place where men wrecked their own vengeance. The police were mostly for show and usually in the pocket of the most powerful family and if one expected justice, it was a personal matter. And a man's right to that justice was honored. "So," Tony said quietly in return, "you'd want the truth and you'd do anything to get it, wouldn't you?"

Though looking disgusted at the reminder and the not so subtle threat, Lorenzo sighed. "Yes, I would." And with deep breath, he took a swallow from his drink. "Okay, what I know…" he leaned back in his chair and fiddled with his glass as he began. "Eleanor was about two weeks from her delivery date, and she called my mother. Wanted to come home. She told us that John was going to be away on business so my father arranged it all, explained to Stefano that he wanted time with his daughter but when she arrived, she was obviously…" Lorenzo paused, trying to find the right word, "anxious or bothered. She'd been on top of the world after the wedding and not knowing any better, I figured it had something to do with her husband since she spoke of little else, and that was none of my affair but after only a few days back home, she came to me, asking for my help…"

"You?" Tony laughed. "What were you, all of fifteen at the time?"

Instead of being offended, the stillness Lorenzo felt take hold of him, as well as his doubts multiplied. "No. We were both eighteen."

And Tony's gaze grew subdued as well. "She was your twin."

"You didn't know that either?"

Tony chose not to answer out loud, merely shook his head, wanting desperately for this interview to be over. He'd come expecting the worst but as he sat listening to this man dredge up events so painful to him, what little humor Tony found in the situation was stifled by the sense that he hearing secrets Lorenzo had bottled up for years. Now that he'd begun the story, it seemed the younger man wanted to share this with someone but every word was costing him a price.

"I realize she could be shallow and quite irritating at times but she'd made the best of a ridiculous situation and if it hadn't been your family she was shuttled off to, it would have been another…" Lorenzo shrugged. "At least she'd seemed genuinely happy with your brother..."

His voice trailed off and he sat lost in his thoughts and just as Tony was about to say something, he took a deep breath.

"She admitted to me that she'd done something foolish," and his dark eyes met Tony's for just a second and then dropped back to his drink again. "She didn't actually confess to getting pregnant on purpose, but after that conversation, I believe it was her plan, hoping your father would force you to marry her and if that didn't work that my father would." Lorenzo's snort of laughter was brief but sarcastic. "For all her conniving ways, she was rather naïve. She really didn't understand that my father could have no influence where Stefano was concerned." Lorenzo raised he head once more, waiting to see if Tony would respond perhaps but Tony sat waiting politely, forcing himself to be patient.

"Apparently, she'd developed a conscious in the months after her wedding. That, and you'd arrived for a visit and I believe it finally hit her that if she lived up to her bargain with Stefano, she'd have to spend the rest of her life _lying_ to you. Agreeing to such a thing when she was only a couple of months pregnant, and being offered a way out of the mess she'd created was easy. I'm not certain how or why that changed. The idea that she was about to be a mother, or the fact that she was lying to John as well as you…"

"John didn't know?"

"I frankly don't know but according to Ellie, your father made her swear not to tell John, or anyone else that the babies belonged to you."

Unbidden came a flash of memory, he and Stefano arguing bitterly…

"_That's what this is all about?" he'd snapped at his father, "you expect I'll simply hand over my children to you? To raise as you see fit?"_

"_There is tradition here Tony, a foundation they will need…"_

"_Answer the question, damn it."_

_Stefano's eyes glittered precariously. "You will show respect in this house."_

_He'd swallowed his pride and backed down but he'd refused to accept what his father was suggesting. "I'm sorry Father, but when I have children, I will be the one deciding how they are raised."_

"_This is your mother's influence I hear."_

"_No."_

_The two men glared at one another and sensing he'd hit a wall, Stefano changed his tact. "I thought a family is what you wanted, what you came back here for… what you were missing in your life."_

"_What you're talking about is not family, it's control. You want to control me, and whatever children I may have someday. That is not going to happen."_

Having thrown down the gauntlet, Tony knew he shouldn't be surprised. Stefano was nothing if not resourceful when it came to getting his own way and he wasn't about to trust anyone else with the future of an empire he'd murdered, cheated and lied to create, not even Tony. Convincing, or threatening Eleanor to keep silent about the twins was the only option left to him and he'd seized hold of it with both hands.

"Alright, so Ellie had an attack of conscious and told you the truth," said Tony, picking up his glass and taking a long swallow of his martini. "Then what?"

"She asked me to help her."

"Do what?"

"Get to Paris without your father's knowledge so that she could talk to you and explain everything."

Tony shook his head. "But she never came."

"That you remember," Lorenzo pointed out quickly.

"Okay," said Tony, thinking it was best to ignore this point for the moment. "So?"

Lorenzo's frown was painful. "A week later, she and her twins were dead."

"In the boating accident."

Lorenzo nodded.

"And you were suspicious immediately?"

"Yes, though I hardly had anything concrete and so I kept what little information I had to myself…until the funeral."

"The funeral." Tony murmured and he could see even in the dim light of the club that Lorenzo's face was flushed and he played with his now empty martini glass nervously. Suddenly, perhaps feeling the heat of Tony's gaze he raised his eyes and the rage lurking in their depths made Tony's mouth go dry.

"Your brother was there of course, but you were not and…"

"Stefano?"

"Yes, pretty much your entire family which is why I found your absence…" Lorenzo scowled uncomfortably, "the first of many odd and…suspicious things about the whole affair. Your brother…" a harsh chuckle slipped out, "he was jumpy when we arrived, barely said two words to my father, who was understandably upset and then insulted. He wouldn't even face me or my mother."

"And Stefano?" asked Tony

"He spent his time consoling my parents. He did seem genuinely contrite but he couldn't hide his concern over John's behavior. Tried to explain it away by saying he was young and felt responsible that he'd not been able to prevent the accident and well, you know your father and how incredibly convincing he can be. As devastated as my father was, he had no desire to make an enemy of Stefano."

The grimace marring Tony's features spoke for him.

"It wasn't just that your brother behaved in a guilty manner," continued Lorenzo, reluctant but also wanting to get this over with, "it was what happened during the mass that made me see the truth of what he must have done."

"He got up and spoke?"

"Yes, and the kicker was what he said."

Tony waited, unconsciously holding his breath.

"It was a verse from the Bible, but not one I would have expected at a funeral, certainly not from a man who professed to love his wife as your brother did." Lorenzo paused, thinking back until the image of John standing up to the podium in the church filled his vision. "Your father didn't want him to speak at all. I heard the two of them arguing about it just prior to the start of the mass but John insisted, in fact his attitude seemed to alarm Stefano and so he finally agreed but he was clearly anxious about what John would say. Still, what came out of his mouth shocked even your father…."

"A verse," and Tony frowned. "Which one?"

"It's been more than twenty years. You don't expect me to have it memorized, do you?"

"Well, if you're suggesting that what he said made you believe him guilty of something…"

"The verse he chose just wasn't what I was expecting…I remember that it seemed to imply that he considered her guilty of…" Lorenzo shrugged uncomfortably, "cheating on him perhaps."

"With who, me?"

The Count's shock was almost insulting, as though he'd never be caught dead with Ellie at that point. "Considering that was where she was headed when she left, I would assume so, yes," replied Lorenzo stiffly.

"You can't remember any of the verse?" Tony insisted, despite the fact he could see Lorenzo was beginning to get truly annoyed.

"No," he snapped but stopped himself from uttering whatever other snide comment he'd meant to aim at Tony and shut his eyes, concentrating for a long minute. "I'm sorry," he said finally, "but the only thing about it I remember is that it convinced me that he must of learned the children were yours and assumed Ellie had been unfaithful, perhaps even followed her to Paris."

That was image not too difficult to imagine. All Tony had to do was think back almost ten years to John's loft and the ugly confrontation between the two of them over someone they both thought at the time was Kristen. That it turned out to be a possessed Marlena didn't really mitigate the rage or sense of betrayal involved since John and Kristen did have an affair, he'd not imagined it and though at the time, John had played the injured party, Tony remembered just how possessive and jealous he became later on when Kristen had moved into his bed and how he'd been unable to let go of that jealously…and Andre had known exactly how to use it in Aremid. He'd played John perfectly.

Despite the expectation for several weeks now that this was he'd learn, it still cut deep. His cousin had been telling the truth. Tony could feel his face begin to burn with the implication of what else that could mean. What of his own actions? What happened in Paris after Eleanor arrived at his door?

And he remembered Stefano's words too…_I raised John as my own with love and I trusted him completely…_

"You said my father seemed worried before the mass began and yet the words John spoke stunned him?" Tony knew he was reaching, grabbing at breadcrumbs in the hope that something didn't make sense; some tiny sliver of information would make all of this a misunderstanding.

"His reaction…I remember as though it were yesterday," said Lorenzo and it was obvious from the unfocused look on his face that the scene was replaying itself in his mind. "Stefano turned a pasty white and I seriously thought that he might pass out where he was sitting, right there in the pew, in front of everyone."

"Did he confront John?"

"If he did, it must have been in private."

Tony ground his teeth in frustration. "And what about you?"

"Me?"

"You didn't try and speak to John, find out what the hell he meant or if he was the one responsible?"

"Of course I tried," growled Lorenzo, reacting to the implication in Tony's voice. "He wouldn't see me, or talk to me, he refused to face any of us and then…" His anger seemed to run out of steam and he shrugged. It was a hopeless gesture that affected Tony more than the man's antagonism. "I called to talk to him a few weeks later, hoping he'd changed his mind but he was gone."

"What do you mean, gone?"

"I learned from a friend that he'd simply disappeared one night and when I found out where he'd ended up, I could no longer deny my suspicions of what he'd done..."

Tony waited, almost as though he were expecting an ax to fall and the misery etched into the lines of Lorenzo's otherwise handsome face confirmed his fears.

"He'd run off to the states, and entered the seminary."


	43. Chapter FortyTwo

Time: Same Day (late March 2003)

Place: Melaswen

Strains of Don Giovanni echoed, the volume swelling to deafening proportions inside the house, so that the sound immersed him where he sat on the patio, concentrating, his eyes closed to shut away the beauty surrounding him, the ocean tranquil as evening fell but dazzling, the last rays of the sun bathing the glassy surface in amber light and the sky that would soon be a deep sapphire blue, resplendent with breathtaking hues that lingered along the edge of the horizon.

He was on his second bottle of Strega.

Stefano so rarely, if ever got drunk, but to survive this day and all it represented had been a grueling experience. He'd felt it from the moment he'd shot upright in his bed this morning, sweat glistening and adrenalin driving his heart rate up dangerously. Actually the dread began days ago and he knew that he'd dreamed of it even though his mind attempted to bury the pain deep in his subconscious…not that recollecting his nightmares mattered since the images and emotions they conjured up were seared into every fiber of his being…the sight of John's pale face awaiting him as he'd stalked the hallway of the old Irish country hospital. A throwback it seemed to the ones he remembered following the war, all whitewashed with iron beds and the smell of disinfectant and starched sheets. There was a stench of death about this one that permeated the building. John sat directly in front of him next to a closed door, his head leaning back against the wall. There were heavy circles beneath his eyes, and the pallor of his face was gray and pinched. At the time, Stefano remembered what a sense of relief he'd felt. He'd spent the entire flight from Italy without any real news. All he knew for certain was that something had gone horribly wrong and he might arrive too late and though it made no sense really, John's presence supplied him a temporary, thoroughly misplaced sense of relief.

"My boy," he said, pulling a chair over to join the young man who was barely out of his teens and the pain that stared back at him from those eyes as they opened in response to his greeting struck Stefano with a frightening impact. They were different. Their normal vivid luster was missing and the color in them had faded to a dull steely blue he'd never encountered in John before. He'd lost what was left of his innocence…

It was a look Stefano knew all too well, one he'd done his share of visiting upon others who got in his way but how he loathed seeing it in the eyes of his children. John might not be his flesh and blood, but Stefano had long since given up trying to keep his distance from the boy. He'd charmed Stefano as he managed to charm nearly everyone else in the family.

"I got your message," he said in almost a fatherly manner.

The telegram he'd received had been abrupt in the extreme…'Andre's son dead. Andre, Tony in hospital. Come.'

John hung his head, unable to face his mentor with the news that needed delivering and when Stefano laid his hand on John's shoulder in sympathy, the young man nearly broke down but something deep within would not allow him that relief. Still, he avoided looking Stefano in the eye. "Sir…I would have done anything, I swear…I never imagined…"

"Well, my nephew gave me very little idea of what was going on. He used the child to force my hand so I don't see what you need feel responsibility for, the only one to blame here would be Andre, and the child's stepfather, or even the uncle perhaps. Did they have something to do with this?"

John's head dropped into his hands but in an instant he sat upright again, staring straight ahead in such misery that Stefano grabbed his arms and forced him around so that he was facing him. "John." His fingers dug into his foster son's skin. "Snap out of it!" he ordered.

"It's E…Ellie…" John's voice was broken and he didn't even struggle in Stefano's grasp.

Stefano though he must have heard John wrong. "Ellie? How…" but this was absurd. "She's with her family…at her father's estate..."

John's eyes closed and he shook his head, defeated.

"What are you saying?" asked Stefano and his voice resonated in his own ears like ice.

"She went to Tony…to tell him..." The striking color in his eyes blazed into Stefano's for just an instant, "that the twins belonged to him. She was in his apartment in Paris when I arrived to accompany him out here."

The anxiety that had descended upon Stefano during the trip, that he couldn't shake returned in full force now, a dreadful feeling in the pit of his soul and his hands loosened their hold and dropped to his side as he looked at John in horror. "Where is she now?" he whispered, fearing the answer but John couldn't give him one and tried to turn away. "No," snarled Stefano, now determined and he yanked John's face around. "Tell me."

"Dead," John choked the word out in a raspy voice.

And Stefano's grip on John tightened unconsciously though the younger man didn't cry out or try to pull away. "My grandchildren? Tell me that they are safe, alive…behind us in that room. Tell me that John," He could feel himself teetering on the brink of the abyss he'd dug himself over the years with all the violence and subterfuge, and now its jaws were like a black maw eager to devour everything he cherished, all of his dreams and hopes for the future.

John's answer was said in such low voice that Stefano had to strain to hear it. "I wish I could."

He let go of John's face and stood up, needing to move around, to do something, anything. He couldn't just sit and accept this. He had to see them, or see Tony….Tony," he though silently, and then to John, "Where is Tony?"

John pointed to the door beside him but when Stefano reached for the handle to open it, John's hand grabbed on to stop him. "Tony is…"

"What?" The word exploded in John's face but he barely flinched, only stared up at Stefano, the misery even more apparent and for a terrible instant Stefano feared for his son. "Not Tony too, dear God, not that."

With a quick shake of his head, John reassured him. "No, he's okay physically, or he will be. They're getting the rest of the shrapnel out of his back right now, but he's…exhausted, confused." A ragged snort of laughter escaped John but there was no humor in his eyes, only grief, and Stefano experienced a pang of guilt. He ought never to involved John in this situation for so many reasons, not the least of which was his relationship to Tony…Tony…how furious he must be, incensed but Stefano pushed the regret aside. It was too late for hindsight. Squeezing the boy's hand, he nodded thankfully and opened the door.

There was a curtain drawn between him and the examination area but he could hear Tony wince and then a moment after he shut the door, the doctor appeared from behind the curtain, eyeing him curiously. "May I help you?" His brogue was not all that thick. He had the lined but kindly face of a country doctor, one who'd spent his life caring for people he lived among as a friend.

"I'm the Count's father."

"Ah, then you'll be wanting to speak with him. It will be just a wee moment more that I need to finish and he'll be fit enough and ready to return home with you."

"Could I…" Stefano took a step forward.

But for all gentle airs, the doctor stood firm and blocked Stefano's way when he tried to circumvent him. "Please," he said in that adept but cold manner doctors conjured up with so little warning, and he gestured to a chair near the door, "be patient for just a few moments longer."

Stefano couldn't sit but he did wait as the doctor requested, not wanting to upset Tony more than necessary. He paced the floor in a restless fashion, trying to come to terms with what John had just told him. What on earth had gone wrong? Well, there was an easy answer to that one, Andre. Stefano continued to rue the day he'd taken in his brother's orphan. What a colossal blunder on his part, a moment of weakness and shame when he should of realized what a viper he'd be nurturing and ordered Enrico to kill the little piece of trash. He'd been nothing but trouble from the day he'd arrived in Italy and if he'd done anything, _anything_ at all to endanger Ellie and her twins and Tony and John, just so that he could prove his stupid theory, Stefano swore he'd throttle his nephew with his bare hands.

Not that any of this explained Ellie's presence here. If it weren't for the state John was in, Stefano would find it impossible to believe she was dead…and the twins…the shock of the news was beginning to wear off, the enormity of what he'd lost, what they'd all lost. God, why?

"Mr. DiMera."

He spun around on his heel to face the doctor who stood wiping his hands on a towel. "You may see your son now."

"You told me that he would be okay."

The doctor nodded calmly. "Yes, but he'll need your love and support, and your patience. He and his young friend out in the hall have been through a terrible ordeal…"

"And his cousin?"

"Ah yes, the other one," the doctor's tone changed abruptly and became almost business like so that Stefano got the idea that he'd had dealings with Andre before this incident, run-ins that hadn't shown his nephew in a favorable light. "I'm afraid his condition is much more serious. Does he have family?"

"I am his family," admitted Stefano in a stiff voice.

"I see." The doctor's response was discreet though Stefano could swear he caught the merest hint of pity, which annoyed him instantly.

"What is his condition?"

"I'd like to discuss that with you, but we're still determining the extent of his injuries and how soon he can be moved. I'll be back when I have answers for you." And with that, he left Stefano alone with Tony.

Heartsick, he reached for the curtain and pulling it aside, found Tony who was trying to get his shirt on. "Let me help you with that…" he offered, reaching out to grab the errant sleeve that wasn't cooperating so that Tony could get his other hand inside, and as he stepped closer, he got a better view of his son's injuries. Tony's back was littered with deep cuts and he had a couple of larger bandages, one covering a section near his left shoulder and another on his side. Both were sizeable and Stefano eyed them with concern.

Tony jerked the shirt away. "Help? You've done quite enough, don't you think, Father?" His dark eyes glittered with the resentment he used to mask his pain.

And Stefano bristled. Keeping his temper in check was essential at this point but it took more of a conscious effort than he would have thought possible. It was all he could do to remind himself how his son must be feeling after what he'd been through because frankly, Stefano was having more and more difficulty putting up with Tony's disrespect over the past year. If he'd simply agreed to the marriage, none of this would be happening. "What was she doing here?" he asked, not bothering to mince words now and Tony's gaze darkened.

"She asked to come along when John arrived, she thought she could find a way to get what she wanted from all of us no doubt."

'Tony!"

But his son ignored the warning in his tone. "Oh please Father," the sarcasm in his tone sharp, "this charade was tiresome months ago. The only thing Ellie gave a damn about was the fact that those twins were a ticket into your circle, access to a world she'd dreamed of all of her life. She didn't care how she reached that goal, and sure as hell not who the father was…"

"Then why would she risk it all, even her marriage to come and tell you?"

Tony sank back down onto the bed and he covered his eyes for a second before he laughed. "Guilt?"

The observation hit too close to home for Stefano. "None of which you share, of course."

"If you'd told me the truth about the twins…"

"You would have married her?" Stefano shot back, already knowing the answer.

"No."

"Then I don't see the point of your anger."

Tony looked at him in shock for a moment, and then the fury took over. "You're actually going to stand there and suggest you have a right to make decisions for me? There is only one person who chooses how I live and that sure as hell isn't you. I am your son, not a bloody possession."

"You Count," said Stefano, pointing a finger angrily, "have a responsibility to this family…"

"A duty to this family is not the same thing as handing over my life to you, so that you can reshape it for me into whatever image is convenient for you to conduct your business."

Both men were breathing heavily now, eyes flashing angrily as John came bursting through the door, looking alarmed.

"This conversation can be heard clear to the next ward."

Tony appeared none too pleased with the interruption but he kept his tongue in check and standing up carefully, busied himself with buttoning up his shirt and locating his jacket. Stefano meanwhile turned to John and walked him back out to the hall, thanking him and asking that he check on Andre's condition. John seemed only too happy to do this. Anything to escape. Both he and Tony shot furtive, odd glances in the direction of the other, though neither of them uttered a word and Stefano got the sense they were keeping things from him and sure enough, once Stefano pulled the door shut, Tony pounced.

"Just what the bloody hell was Andre doing here and why did you send John to help him? What was he supposed to be doing exactly?"

"John didn't tell you?"

"After arriving to find his wife in my house?" Tony's laughter was painfully sarcastic. "Hell no."

"What about after you arrived here?"

"Please Father," Tony's frustration was seething but to his credit, he was trying to keep control of himself. "Just tell me what this is all about."

Now it was Stefano's turn to snort in disgust. "What is this ever about where your cousin is concerned? The only thing he gives a damn about…himself."

But Tony shook his head. "I know Andre's faults as well as you do but this was different. He's after something…supremely motivated in a way he's not been in for quite some time and I don't know why…he wouldn't open up to me of course, or anyone else, though he talked to John but I _know_ this had absolutely nothing to do with that child or its mother, did it?"

It felt as if the last two words were hammered into his skull and Stefano sat down on the bed, avoiding his son's burning gaze. He felt terribly old suddenly. Where had he gone wrong that this situation was spiraling so completely out of his control? "Alright," he said finally. "Andre is obsessed, crazed, so he says, with this idea that he knows who murdered your grandparents…"

He wasn't facing Tony, but he could feel the stillness as his son considered the possibilities, none of which made any sense to him. "But we already know it was the IRA who had a hand in it, because of the accident at the factory."

"Yes, but he told me he had a lead on the men themselves and he swore he'd have the proof of their guilt if only I would provide some assistance but when I demanded to know details, such as where he'd learned this information, he balked. He provided me with no reason to believe his contacts were anything other than wishful thinking or another pathetic attempt to gain my attention, so," Stefano sighed, clicking his tongue in disgust, "I refused. I told him his little game was over, and he needed to come home."

Again, silence took over so that Stefano could hear his own heart beating and he twisted around on the bed so he could look over at Tony who was staring at him, and then, "Good God, he got himself arrested, didn't he?" Stefano saw the awareness flash in Tony's eyes. "On purpose."

"So that I'd have to send someone to deal with it, yes."

"It was all a ruse," Tony murmured, mostly to himself and then a bit louder, "even the line he fed me after I arrived."

"What are you talking about?"

"The child," explained Tony angrily. "Andre refused to leave once I bailed him out. Said he wouldn't abandon his flesh and blood to a family that would despise and mistreat him simply because of he wasn't one of them."

"And you believed him." Stefano tone was scornful but Tony wasn't in the mood for his father's lectures.

"Would you rather I'd left an innocent child here without trying to find out the truth?"

"Did you? Learn the truth that is?" Stefano was having rather a difficult time understanding Tony's sudden concern for this child. He and his cousin absolutely despised each other and though his son had his weaknesses, pity for Andre had never been one of them Perhaps it was the mountain of revelations sprung on him over the last few days…in the space of a week, he'd learned he was going to be a father only to have it snatched away in such a bloody, violent manner... Stefano wouldn't have expected him to care to such an extent otherwise, but even so when Tony lashed out at him, it was unexpected to say the least.

"That child was your grand-nephew and that is all the emotion you can muster? He was murdered for Christ's sake."

"His death is on Andre's head, no matter who else was involved."

"Involved?" Tony's outrage was stinging now. "Someone, probably the child's stepfather set a bomb. He wanted Andre to watch his son blown to smithereens. Even you couldn't be so heartless to suggest my cousin had that coming to him, or that he's responsible for it."

As hardened as Stefano had become over the years, Tony was right. He had his limits. Listening to his son describe what happened the previous day, the horror they'd witnessed was difficult to accept knowing it had robbed him of his grandchildren as well, but Andre was hardly blameless. "I'm not a monster, and yes, I do sympathize with your cousin's predicament but that doesn't change the fact that he had an avenue out of this situation but chose instead to remain and so made it even worse, and not because he gave a damn about his son, as you so astutely pointed out."

Confusion clouded Tony's features and he stared at Stefano with suspicion burning in his eyes. "This isn't like you at all, Father. Why would you be so determined to get Andre out of Ireland? If he had a lead on someone who murdered your parents, a lead he followed for how many months, why on earth wouldn't you be doing everything in your power to help him?"

Damn. He was too tired. In the condition he was in, he was getting sloppy and he couldn't afford that. Tony would never condone his actions if he learned how far Stefano had gone to secure his control over the family business. It was the past and that was where it needed to stay, buried forever. "We still have interests in this country and his behavior is jeopardizing them."

"That is bull and we both know it."

Stefano shrugged. Time to fall back on plan B. "I don't believe Andre does have any information about your grandparents. It was all a screen. He's infatuated with the idea that someone ruined his father and he's hell bent on proving it."

"Who, Ian Murphy, some…" Tony waved a hand at Stefano impatiently, "second rate fisherman living out on the edge of nowhere? The man couldn't have been more than a child at the time."

"No, his brother-in-law apparently." Tony opened his mouth to object but Stefano held up his hand to continue. "Yes, I understand it's unlikely but the man did leave Ireland for America shortly after Andre's father lost everything and he had connections to both the IRA and our family."

"Oh bloody hell, every Irishman has connections to the IRA," snorted Tony, "and just because he or someone in his family worked for that _particular_ company, it hardly makes him a suspect."

"You'll get no argument from me. I find this all as thoroughly ridiculous as you do but, you wanted the truth."

'The truth," Tony's attempt at laughter caught in his throat and he turned away to gaze out the window. For several long moments, the two men remained this way and Stefano soon became aware of sounds outside of the room, the howling wind that buffeted the thick plastered walls with gale force…and the rain. He remembered the soft rain of Ireland, but this was a storm off the Atlantic and it beat against the windows relentlessly. It was the kind of rain that could drench you within a few steps.

"What happened?" asked Stefano quietly, not certain if he'd get an answer and he could literally see Tony's body stiffen at the question. And then he took a deep breath.

"What happened…" he rubbed his hand across his eyes as though to blot it all out. "Well, instead of the child on the boat, or rather along with him, someone sent a bomb."

"And you think it was Murphy?"

The shrug that rippled across Tony's shoulder was halfhearted at best. "He's the only one that comes to mind, the only one who voiced his hatred and wanted the boy gone, though I didn't think him capable of this."

"I still don't understand how Ellie could have gotten in the way or involved in any of this mess."

Dead silence met this observation and Stefano forced himself remain sitting and to keep himself from grabbing a hold of his son and shaking the information out of him. Several minutes ticked by this way.

"Tony…"

"Can't this wait?"

"No."

Tony seemed frozen, or perhaps simply unwilling and petulantly stubborn, still angry about the deception, though it was apparent he was suffering too, and finally Stefano got up from the bed and joined his son at the window, laying a hand on his shoulder and for the first time Tony didn't flinch or bother to hide his pain but looked his father full in the face…and what Stefano read in Tony's dark, expressive eyes made his heart freeze in his chest because his son was no stranger to violence or bloodshed. He'd dealt with his share of it and though he and Stefano rarely agreed when it came to running the family business as Stefano had done in the past, the younger man knew his way around his father's world and was quite adept at holding his own, not to mention all the time he spent courting danger shamelessly on that damned racing circuit with his friends. He never talked about his experiences there, but Stefano kept tabs on him and knew he'd seen how cruel life could be so whatever he and John had witnessed the previous day had to have obliterated his sense of what limits existed…and made him view death in an entirely new and frightening way.

"Come…" and gently Stefano guided Tony over to sit next to him on the bed and pulled a flask out of his pocket.

Tony didn't even smile or question the fact that Stefano rarely carried liquor on him. His eyes had the same hollowness he'd seen in John's. Stefano unscrewed the top and handed it to Tony, who thankfully didn't argue and took a long swallow.

Giving him another minute, Stefano began again. "You said something about a boat."

Tony stared at him and then nodded. "Yes, Andre insisted I do what I could to talk the family into giving him custody of his son and when I met with them, it was obvious to me that the stepfather wanted nothing to do with the proof of his wife's infidelity and though the uncle and the child's mother weren't pleased, they finally agreed, because of Murphy's vehement attitude I believe, to let Andre take him back to Italy and I set up a time when they could bring him out to the yacht. It was supposed to be yesterday morning."

"And they brought him…"

"No," and Tony grit his teeth. "_They_ are all in one piece so apparently he was sent with some unsuspecting pair, on an old fishing trawler, a good sized one but run down."

"They sent him?" Stefano was indignant at that. "With strangers?"

Tony shrugged and threw up a hand in disgust.

"Where was Ellie?'

"Sleeping in her cabin, according to John. He mentioned it in passing when he came up to breakfast."

"And so you had your breakfast and when you finished, went to meet the boat and?" He left it hanging purposely, hoping Tony would continue on but he didn't for several minutes and Stefano could tell from his look that he was still on the deck of the yacht, watching with red-rimmed eyes, waiting to see it begin again as he probably had already countless times since yesterday. Stefano could barely stand to see his son in this state. The agony Tony was experiencing tore into his heart and it was all he could do to keep himself from reaching out, to take his son in his arms as he used to do when Tony was a small boy. Watching him go through this was excruciating.

"The boat got so close we could actually see the child and the women who was holding him. I think she might have been a nurse. And an older gentleman operating the controls, and then…" Tony's voice faded. He tried to keep going but had to stop to gain control of himself, taking deep breaths and concentrating, his eyes squeezed shut at first but almost immediately they snapped open when the images converged all at once, overwhelming him, and for the first time, he met Stefano's gaze. "It was too close when it blew and god knows why we thought we could do anything by all jumping in. The damned explosion sent pieces of the boat almost a quarter of a mile but…" again he had to pause.

Stefano had a bad feeling he knew what was coming next and a lump formed in his throat making it hard to swallow all of the sudden, and it burned.

"I can't be certain…it's possible someone set a bomb on the yacht as well, we are talking about people willing to murder a child after all, but John and I have discussed it a bit…" an inexplicable expression flashed across Tony's face as he mentioned John's name, "and…" he had to take another deep breath, "we think it more likely that a part of the burning wreckage hit the deck in just the wrong place and compromised the gas tank. All three of us were in the water at this point along with Gaston and the cabin boy, the new one, and when we resurfaced it was like being in the middle of one of those ridiculous war movies Martin is always watching…flames and oily black smoke that made our eyes water and bits of ash raining down into the water, which was bloody cold and choppy. Even without the smoke we couldn't see worth a damn." Tony covered his face with one hand. "John was hollering Ellie's name over and over, swimming toward what was left of the hull like a madman. I followed him and…when we got closer…the hull was capsized and…"

Tony was gulping down air now to get through this recital. Part of Stefano wanted stop him, but he had to know what happened, despite the rage that was already beginning to flower from some black seed deep within him.

"…she was alive, trapped inside…" Tony lifted his eyes, and they were like two black holes drenched in anguish. "She was screaming, for help at first and then…oh god…it got worse…it was ghastly. I've never heard a sound like that and…" his hand clenched itself into a fist, "we couldn't reach her. We tried diving and when that didn't work we started using pieces of the wreckage to tear a hole large enough for one of us to crawl through but it took forever. I'm not sure what was worse, the screaming or the silence when it came."

Tony took another swallow of the fiery liquid in the flask he was still holding before he continued, reluctantly.

"We finally gouged a hole that was big enough and John went in first. I knew neither of us was prepared for what we would find, but…" he swallowed convulsively, desperate to get this over with, hoping maybe that it would help lesson the pain in some way. "She'd given birth to one of the babies but she lay trapped beneath debris and in an effort to get free and help the child, she'd…severed her arm and it was already too late when we reached her. She was barely conscious. She kept whispering how sorry she w…" Tony almost choked as he tried to get this out and his eyes were swimming with tears now. The fact he didn't try and hide them from Stefano, by anything other than turning his head some, worried his father as much as his demeanor which made it obvious he was still in shock. He'd not wept in front of Stefano since he was a small child.

Neither of them heard the door or sensed anyone else in the room until Stefano caught sight of a figure out of the corner of his eye. John. He was seated just inside the door. He too had tears streaming down his cheeks but he met Stefano's gaze directly this time.

Stefano turned back to Tony who was wiping his eyes with the back of his hand now. A swarm of questions screamed through Stefano's mind, but he'd pushed Tony too far already and the picture of what had taken place was clear enough. Much too clear. "Has anyone been arrested?" he asked and after a telling silence, John uttered a single damning word.

"No."

"Did the police come and question either of you at all?"

"I spoke to them, but they explained that they had no leads, and that neither Murphy nor his brother-in-law could possibly have been involved." The matter-a-fact way John answered carried no emotion whatsoever.

Stefano's eyes narrowed and he could feel his face grow hard. "When I'm done with them, they'll wish they'd turned themselves into the Irish authorities, or better yet the IRA."

Tony completely ignored this threat but a trace of emotion that Stefano recognized shot through John's eyes and he didn't pay attention to it as he should have. John's conscious had always weighed on him heavily. He took everything to heart and so Stefano brushed it off as simply John's overdeveloped sense of responsibility getting the better of him, along with his grief.

"I need to go speak to the doctor about Andre, and then," he reached out his hand to squeeze his son's arm gently, "I'm taking both of you back home."

Tony nodded but didn't speak. Instead he screwed the cap back on his father's flask and handed it to him, and then stood up and headed to the window and stared out into the rain and soggy, leaden clouds hanging low in the sky.

Knowing there was nothing left he could do to comfort either of them, Stefano rose, and on his way out the door, paused next to John's chair and motioned for him to stay when the younger man began to rise as well. Stefano gazed pointedly at Tony's back and then at John again who nodded his understanding. He sat back down to wait but as soon as Stefano was out of the room and on his way down the hall, he could hear John's low query.

"Did you tell him…that you know about us?"

Stefano stopped in his tracks at the first sound of John's voice, and over the sound of his pounding heart, strained to hear Tony's answer.

"No."

Silence hung for a moment and then, "Why not?"

"Because if I do that, you'll loose the only chance you have to meet your mother, or get to know her."

"He wouldn't hurt her." It was said with such conviction that Stefano had to prevent himself from returning to the room. What a dear boy.

Tony didn't answer his brother right away but when it came, the words stabbed. "He made your mother believe you were dead, and after yesterday, I'm certain you understand just how she must have felt, so maybe it's time for you to take a long hard look at the man who raised you and see him for what he truly is."

"And what would that be, Tony?"

"A thief."

Apparently John had no answer to his brother's indictment, and now wearing a scowl, Stefano went in search of the doctor and with every step he took, his fury and despair swelled to frightening proportions. Someone here had been the author of this hideous disaster and once he learned exactly those responsible, they'd pay just the way Stefano was paying; their children and their grandchildren, one by one, he swore the guilty would watch every single one of their offspring suffer….

Stefano came out of his reverie of the past to find darkness has settled about him with a velvety softness, the scent of some heady tropical blossom in the air. His glass was empty. Taking extra care in his near drunken state, he managed to pour himself another without spilling and stared at it with bloodshot eyes before reaching over slowly to pick it up. He held the tiny crystal glass a moment, making certain he could feel its smooth stem between his fingers and then raised it in a toast.

"To you, Shawn, my friend...the author of this most bloody anniversary." And he downed the last of his Strega. " Just a little while longer now and I shall finally have the pleasure of seeing you come face to face with your demons, and all the lives you ruined."


	44. Chapter FortyThree

Time: Late March 2003, a few days later 

Place: Salem

When the doorbell rang, Tony was ready. The twins were out gallivanting for at least another hour or two and he'd rid himself of all the servants, even Bart was away and out of his hair for the night.

He opened the door to the messenger, held out his hand to take the minute package and tipped the boy, who in turn, nodded his thanks with a friendly smile and left, making his way out to the sidewalk, and Tony reached back to close the door.

"What's the rush Tony?"

A figured emerged from the shadows beyond the lighted path, tall, broad shouldered. "John. What a pleasant…" he had to concentrate not to choke on the word, "surprise," he said, eyeing his brother suspiciously, wondering how much of the evening's activities he'd been privy to so far.

"Well after the other night, I thought it might be good idea if we talked..."

"Without your wife present."

"Yes," John agreed, nodding once slowly, wearing an air of placid indifference.

What the hell was he up to now wondered Tony. "About?"

"I'd think that would be obvious."

"Nothing about you I'm learning is obvious," Tony observed in a wry tone.

"Ah see, now that's one of your problems brother, you're far too skeptical."

"You bugged my house, not to mention your wife's purse. What possible reason could I have to doubt you?"

Despite his activities over the last few weeks, it seemed John had not been expecting this sort of welcome. "You're the one who said you wanted to work together," he pointed out, "for the sake of the twins. Wasn't that right?"

"This isn't a good time…"

But John with his usual tack, had different ideas and invited himself in, brushing past Tony so brazenly that Tony got the impression John hoped he'd try to grab him and shove him back outside. Instead, Tony merely glared. This habit his brother was developing of making himself at home was beginning to grate on Tony's nerves, though at least he wasn't breaking and entering this time, and telling himself this might turn out to be an amusing conversation after all, shut the door and followed John into the living room. John stood at the mantle, staring up at the urn.

"So, where is he?"

"Who?" though Tony had a pretty good idea of the person John was talking about.

"Your father's answer to Dr. Frankenstein."

"Ah yes, Rolf." Slipping the thinly padded envelope inside the pocket of his jacket, Tony turned to pour himself a cognac and then waved the decanter in John's direction.

"No thank you, and I'm waiting for an answer."

"Not that I owe you one," Tony reminded him as he turned with his drink, "but he's disappeared."

"With your help?"

"Hardly."

John's piercing blue eyes regarded him evenly and it was a look Tony knew. For a spy, John was incredibly bull headed and had always allowed his preconceptions to get in the way and apparently he'd already made up his mind about Tony's motives where the doctor was concerned. How Tony wished the day would hurry up and arrive when he could acquaint him with the truth…

"There aren't any secrets in Rolf's head that you'd like to keep hidden?" John inquired after another few moments of scrutiny.

So much for amusement. "The insinuations are getting tiresome John. Now if that is all you had to say…"

"I'd think after what he did to your children that you'd want him punished."

"If I do, that is none of your concern."

"Oh come on Tony, I'm just trying to help."

"You. Help me…with Rolf." Tony's laughter was bitterly sarcastic.

John shrugged as though his offer shouldn't surprise Tony in the least. "Yes. After all, it wasn't just the twins he hurt but Marlena as well."

For an instant, Tony could feel himself on the edge of giving his brother a piece of his mind, and informing him just exactly what Rolf had done to hurt Marlena, and why but then his common sense returned and he reigned in the insane impulse, though not quickly enough.

"You do know things," breathed John. "Or is it that you remember something you're not telling us." He let the question hang between them a moment, and then, "funny, how since we came back from the island, those spells you were having before we all ended up down there have disappeared…" And again the weighted silence.

Feigning a complete lack of concern, Tony raised his glass finally. "Well thank you for your offer and all that…genuine anxiety you're developed for my health suddenly, but you needn't bother yourself…over that, or the good doctor." And Tony's smile twisted. "He'll be getting everything that's coming to him."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"You just said you wanted him to pay…

"I do, but I also want to speak to him again, or better yet, make him talk to the ISA."

"You don't know Rolf as well as you imagine if you think he'd reveal anything to you or the ISA or any other agency beyond what he has told us already. He won't even talk to me."

"I noticed that," said John. "Rather curious since Stefano is…" he eyed the urn pointedly and then Tony. "Dead."

Tony smirked. "Ah John, I'm surprised at you."

John's eyebrow shot up questioningly. "How so?"

"You knew Stefano as well as I, perhaps even better…my father and his little games." Tony allowed a thoroughly calculated chuckle to slip out. "What, because he is dead, you think they would stop?"

From the look of surprise coloring his brother's face, Tony knew he'd made a blunder and cursed under his breath. John's natural curiously might be hampered by his prejudices, but it wasn't nonexistent and if he perceived what Tony was really up to, his interference might cost Tony the one chance he had to get to Andre and Tony wasn't going to loose that opportunity. It was Andre and Rolf that had the answers he was looking for, Tony was certain of it now. The last person he trusted to be involved considering the stakes, was John, being that it was his past at issue, and even if that were not the case, he'd be a loose cannon as he'd proven only a few nights before when Bart had finally delivered Rolf to the mansion.

It was obvious the doctor didn't fear Tony in particular, but John was another matter and the terror that shown for merely an instant in Rolf's cold eyes when John threatened to tear him apart was quite real…and telling.

And it had piqued Tony's curiosity further so that he'd begun digging into John's past in deadly earnest, more alarmed by one fleeting glimpse of a mad man's fear than he had been after an hour of Lorenzo Torricelli's accusations, hence the disk hidden in his pocket, waiting…perhaps a beginning to some of the answers he was seeking.

"What is going on Tony?" For the first time since he'd walked in the door, or for that matter, the first time in years, John sounded sincerely curious, as though he believed he might hear the truth, or accept what he heard _as_ the truth but Tony wasn't buying it.

"If I didn't know better, I'd actually believe you'd listen with an open mind, John." And Tony laughed, "And we both know when it comes to me, that isn't very likely."

The fierce blue eyes hardened and Tony could see him struggling to control his temper. "This isn't the way to prove that you're making an effort."

"And bugging my house hasn't exactly given me the idea that you gave a damn on that score either" Tony snapped back, feeling his own temper threatening to explode, as it always did at being lectured by this man.

"Believe it or not, Marlena said the same thing, which is why I'm here."

It was all Tony could do to swallow his opinion of this statement. There was no way in hell John would put aside his suspicions or fears simply because his wife asked it of him, not when it came to Tony and his family. When it came the DiMeras, John was obsessed, perhaps even more obsessed than he was with his wife or maybe deep in his subconscious there was a desire driving him to do all in his power to keep her safe from the past he couldn't remember.

Tony had to admit that the thought had never occurred to him before but this wasn't the time or place.

Taking a deep breath, he set his glass on the bar and walked to the door leading out to the foyer. "I will think about what you've said," and he waited as John hesitated and then shook his head in disgust. He strode across the room but paused as he reached his brother's side.

"Your children deserve this after all the hell your father put them through and if you truly care about them the way you say you do, you'll put aside your hatred for me and tell me what the old man it up to."

If only I really knew thought Tony as he eyed John coolly. "Good night, brother."

The lines at the corners of John's mouth tightened, holding back his frustration but then without warning, he laughed. "So…no message to my wife, no seemingly innocent polite little greeting meant to seduce her with your charm and wit?"

Tony could feel the unease wash over him as he realized John was goading him on purpose suddenly, not ready to give up and for the first time he wondered if Marlena had been the only one to regain a portion of her memories during Rolf's interrogation and then unbidden came another image, the sight of Marlena's face, flushed with pleasure and he could feel his own mouth curve in a twisted smile. "You can tell her she's welcome for breakfast or lunch tomorrow. The twins and I would thoroughly enjoy her company."

John's face darkened menacingly but he didn't give into his impulses. Instead he marched through the double doors, his heels clicking against the parquet flooring and slammed the front door behind him with enough force that Tony checked to make sure the glass was still intact.

"Well, well…" murmured Tony, coming back into the living room and picking up his glass that was still nearly full. "What did she say to you, brother to fire you up so?" Whatever it was, it had unnerved John as well, he thought silently as he took a seat facing the mantle and stared up at the urn sitting prominently for all to see. She couldn't be happy about her husband keeping tabs on her. That was something Marlena would never stand for.

Not that this sort of behavior was a surprise to Tony considering the bitter past he and John shared and it wouldn't be the only time his brother had gone to extremes to achieve the outcome he desired.

Tapping his fingers idly on the arm of the chair, he thought about the future, specifically what John's reaction would be when the shit hit the fan. Who would he blame it on? Not his precious Marlena, Tony could guarantee that. But he was equally certain John would not lay all the blame on Stefano either, or Rolf….and if by some chance he were to discover what happened between his wife and his brother before Marlena regained her own memory, John would come after him with a vengeance.

Which brought him back to the delivery he'd received and he pulled it from his pocket and stared pensively at the return address, thinking back to his conversation only the day before…or more accurately, the morning before, at an obscenely early hour.

"Tony?"

"Christ," he'd snapped furiously, jolting upright in the darkness, and knocking his elbow. "Do you fucking know what time it is?" He could tell by the split second of hesitation before Shane answered that he was trying to not to laugh.

"I do apologize, but I'm a tight schedule and this needs to be taken care of today."

"What is it?" demanded Tony.

"A change of plans. The date we came up with for Anna's visit will not work, she's got a show to host that weekend and canceling it would hardly be in your best interest, I think you'll agree."

Tony rubbed the sleep from his eyes and leaned back with a sigh. "Damn."

"Ah, I see…you already set up an appointment for the evening in question…"

"I can change it."

Tony swore the silence on the other end of the line was meant to hide Shane's further amusement and sure enough, it was evident when he ventured a comment on the situation. "You could always make it up to the lady personally."

"Yes, that is a possibility," returned Tony in a tone sounding positively shameless considering that he was a married man, "and while I'm at it, I could even phone John so he can come watch the whole damn show in person. Save him the trouble of peeping through the windows," he finished with a drawl, thinking of his newest employee who, along with Shane's old associate, the one sharing Tony's coloring and build and wearing a copy of Tony's face would soon be rubbing elbows with Lucas at the younger man's favorite brothel. "Speaking of charming, beautiful and extremely complicated women, tell me, are you prepared for Kimberly's arrival?"

"How did you find…oh never mind," Apparently Shane was looking forward to the holiday with his ex-wife as he didn't sound nearly as peeved as Tony had imagined would be the case when he sprang the fact that he knew about the trip, and Tony's laughter rippled though the receiver when Shane refused to even muster up a convincing amount of disgust at the snooping he'd done. "And no," Shane continued after a moment, "I'm not ready, reason one being this blasted favor you're insisting upon, so, how about you cough up a few other dates that will work for you and I'll finalize one with Anna before I leave."

Tony had to scramble out of bed to locate his calendar first, buried on his desk amid the papers he'd been working on the previous night but soon they'd agreed to a number of possibilities for Anna to choose from.

Once this was accomplished, Tony was ready to go back to sleep when Shane brought up the subject Tony had hoped to avoid until a little later in the morning.

"You were going to tell me what Torricelli had to say and I've been waiting for a phone call…was it really that bad?"

And Tony let out a sigh. "Yes."

The word was accompanied by no explanation at first and what there was of Shane's good humor dissipated rapidly. "He provided no proof, is that it?"

"According to him, John's behavior at the funeral could only be construed in one way…"

"Why? Did he say something in particular?"

Resigning himself to this ordeal, Tony lay back against the headboard and tried to get comfortable. "Alright, according to him John got up near the end of the mass to speak about Ellie, at least that was what everyone expected he was going to do, but instead he quoted some scripture that signified to Lorenzo that John believed Ellie had betrayed him, and convinced him that John was the one responsible for whatever had really happened to her. And it wasn't just his imagination either; he said Stefano nearly passed out when he heard what John had to say."

"And the scripture in question…what was it?"

"No idea." Tony said flatly. "He made the excuse that it was too long ago to remember the exact words…he was young at the time and sounded as though the incident lasted all of a minute or two…it was the shock of it that seems to have made the impression on him and everyone else who was present."

"You think he'd recognize it if he heard it again?"

Tony didn't answer this right away. He had the strangest feeling that Shane wasn't simply suggesting he pick out a few choice possibilities and try them out but actually had an idea of the precise verse in question, which was impossible. How on earth could he? "Tell me I'm hearing things because I could swear you weren't even surprised to hear this story."

"I don't know for certain…"

"Shane, don't play games, not about this." And Tony could tell from the cold silence on the other end of the line that Shane didn't appreciate the accusation, but Tony didn't really care. He was frustrated with the whole bloody business and felt as if he didn't get answers pretty soon, he'd crack up.

"Fine, how much do you know about John's trial in Aremid?"

Tony blinked in surprise at the complete shift of topic. "Does this have something to do with…"

"Yes," replied Shane impatiently, "it does, so please just answer the question…how much did Stefano tell you?"

"Mostly the basics, I guess. I didn't read the transcript or question Stefano about the affair in detail. It was a rather awkward topic of conversation after he dropped that bomb on me about John being Daphne's son."

"So you don't know that you were a witness at the trial."

"Excuse me?"

Shane actually chuckled at the astonishment in Tony's voice. "Well, not you in person of course…not you at all really. The person on the tape would have been Andre."

"Tape."

"Yes. It was found in your safe deposit box after your death."

Tony could feel the hair on the back of neck stiffen into a million clammy pins sticking him, a harbinger setting off a warning alarm in his head. "So it wasn't a message meant only for one reason, or one person even."

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, if it was something he made for the sole purpose of setting up John for his murder, he would have given it to Peter, not left it in a place that might have been overlooked at the time of the trial. Andre has his faults but he learned from a master, and…" Tony pondered for a moment, trying to determine the most likely recipient Andre had in mind. The one who'd have access to his safe deposit box upon his death would be his next of kin. "Stefano, that was his target I'd wager."

"You think there is a message in there specifically aimed at your father?"

"Possibly."

"I never considered that," admitted Shane. "I always assumed it contained a message meant for John but no matter how many times either of us watched it, we came up blank. Torricelli's story though, that has me curious now. You said a verse…a biblical verse?"

"Yes."

"The label on the top of the video cassette when it was found contained nothing but a letter and two numbers. John believed it to be a code for something."

"Really? What were the numbers?"

"37/28 and the letter P."

"A code…and you think it could be what, the book and number of a scripture?"

"It would work, wouldn't it? P, for Psalms or Proverbs…."

"Psalms…" Something clicked in Tony's mind. "And then the number of the psalm and the v…" His voice trailed off and the sensation he'd just experienced was now magnified a thousand fold and for more than a minute he had to concentrate to keep breathing.

"Tony?" What is it?"

"I know that verse, word for word Shane, as does Stefano and…"

"And Andre?"

"Most definitely."

There was a long pause from the other end of the line and then, "Would it fit Lorenzo's story?"

"You mean could it the one John used at the funeral?"

A brief moment of hesitation so short it was hardly noticeable was followed by a "Yes."

"It ends with the words, 'but the seed of the wicked shall be cut off.'"


	45. Chapter FortyFour

Time: Same Day

Place: Salem

"Oh God." Bleak laughter came ringing through from the other end of the line and it had a hollow feel to it as though Shane had been almost expecting the worst. "How do you know that verse?"

"What do you mean, how?" asked Tony whose mind was still contemplating the image of John standing up at the funeral and delivering such a line to a church full of shocked faces.

"Well, why is it that all of you can recite it on command so to speak?" said his partner, pulling him back to the matter at hand.

"Oh that…it has to do with family history, something that was lost when Stefano's parents were killed in Ireland. There was a family heirloom, which had been passed from father to son." Tony thought back to the first time he heard this story from his father, back when he'd been so very young and arrogant, and terribly green when it came to understanding his family's history and worse yet, family politics. "It was a tradition. The eldest DiMera son gave this heirloom as a gift to his wife on their wedding day."

"And it contained the verse in some way?"

"The verse itself was etched in Latin around the edges of an old St. Christopher medal that I understand was about twice the size of the ones you see now-a-days, one of Stefano's ancestor received from a pope, and so as you can imagine, it was treasured."

"But lost when your grandparents died."

Tony nodded without thinking. "Yes, they died in an explosion at one of their plants in Northern Ireland. Apparently they'd done something to infuriate the IRA who took their revenge though the fact they were caught in the explosion itself seems to have been an accident since they hadn't planned to be there that night. Anyway, the medal was not recovered with the bodies. Stefano told me that his older brothers assumed it had been destroyed."

Silence reigned for several moments after Tony finished his explanation and he got the feeling that Shane was wracking his brain too, trying to figure out why Andre would be alluding to this bit of history. Was there a connection between John using this verse at Ellie's funeral, and whatever reason Andre hated his brother?

"Tony, there's something you should probably know, something I doubt you were privy to at the time it took place, when Stefano had John and Marlena down at Maison Blanche."

Another abrupt curve Tony hadn't been expecting. "When he held them there."

"Yes. It seems Celeste tried to help John, not ten years ago but the first time Stefano had him imprisoned. She gave him a St. Christopher medal and a verse written on a scrap of paper and told him it was the only thing he'd need to fight Stefano's control.

Tony's mouth went dry. "And the verse?"

"It ended with the phrase you just quoted."

"But…" he stopped, frowning as he tried to sort this out. "John would recognize the verse then."

"What do you mean?"

"The letter and numbers on the video cassette. You said he suspected it was some sort of code and being that he was a priest, he would have known the number and the book of that particular verse."

"I don't think so necessarily," said Shane, thoughtfully. "He has so little memory of those years, and I don't see how he'd connect it to you, or the feud the two of you were embroiled in over Kristen."

Tony scowled. There was something odd about this scenario but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Did Celeste explain to John how it would help him escape or beat Stefano?"

"Not that I'm aware of but he did confront Stefano with it the last time he was at Maison Blanche, the night of the cotillion."

"And…" prompted Tony when Shane paused.

"Basically your father told him that John had only himself to blame for the position in which he was entangled."

"Which would mean Lorenzo's suspicions are on the mark."

There was another pause before Shane replied, "maybe."

"I realize there are pieces missing here, especially what the hell this has to do with Andre but I don't see that changing what Ellie's brother had to say to me," Tony said, trying to explain his reasoning.

"No, I agree but, as you say we do have no idea how Andre is involved and…" but abruptly Shane cut himself off, obviously uncomfortable with whatever he was contemplating.

"What?"

"I…" Tony heard Shane suck in a deep breath through the receiver, "I don't really like what I'm thinking and I suspect you're going to like it even less. In fact, I'm pretty sure that you're going to go…well, lose your temper at the very least."

"And if I promise to be a good boy?" Tony's snide answer was accompanied with a brief chuckle.

"I wouldn't believe you, I'm afraid," replied Shane evenly. "I wouldn't trust myself if it were me in this situation."

Tony grew still so that he could feel his heart pounding in his chest and he waited for Shane to get on with whatever he was contemplating.

"It sounds from what we know already as though John betrayed Andre in some way, or at least Andre perceived whatever happened as a betrayal." Shane took another deep breath, and then, "if John did go to Paris and found Eleanor with you, or worse, discovered that Stefano lied to him after believing those children were his and then learned he'd been used either by Stefano or imagined that you had something to do with it, I suspect he could have gone to the one man who hated you enough to assist him in getting even."

"You're serious," said Tony. It didn't exactly shock him to think it was possible, only to hear it coming from Shane. "You believe John capable of that?"

"I believe him as capable as the next man of giving into his emotions and no matter what he was like before Stefano began messing with his mind, John has shown himself to be hot headed since he came to Salem, so yes, though I'd also guess he was pretty naïve back then. He was very young. His idea of getting even with you and Andre's probably didn't have much in common and I doubt Andre would have tolerated John wanting out, or going to Stefano if things got out of hand. John may have wanted you to pay but I doubt he'd go along with Andre killing you, if for no other reason than knowing what Stefano would do to him."

Unfortunately, that sounded perfectly logical to Tony. It would explain both his father's hatred of John as well as Andre's, and Stefano's stubborn determination over the years to keep John's past a secret, refusing to share it with Tony no matter how badly things deteriorated between him and Kristen. There was also his suspicion that his father had used Kristen as a way to punish both him and his brother, deliberately creating the dissension that had resulted from the whole mess and he couldn't forget his father's warning back at the compound, that if Tony refused to step between Marlena and John, Stefano would simply find someone else for the roll, and it appeared he had, his own daughter.

"Tony?"

"I'm here, I'm…what did Andre have to say on the tape?"

"I'll send you a copy. It might be better if you watched it yourself and who knows, maybe you'll come up with something else we missed…"

The top of the package came back into focus as Tony returned to the present. "So," he murmured softly to himself, "what unpleasant little message did you come up with, Cousin, and who exactly was it for?" Getting up, he set his empty glass on the table and took the disk to this study, making certain first to lock the door in case the twins decided to come home early, or John hadn't left the premises and after pulling the disk from its sleeve, slipped it into the player, drumming his fingers on the desk as he waited impatiently for it to finish loading and then the image of his cousin appeared on the screen.

From the background, which wasn't recognizable, Tony guessed Andre made the tape while he was in Aremid and as he watched, he shook his head at his cousin's cheekiness in smoking through the entire performance. If no one else would have noticed how out of place such behavior was, at least Tony figured Peter would have caught on. Apparently having a new bride kept his brother's attention not quite as focused.

There was a bit of blathering at the beginning about Tony's marital failures, and his inability to keep Kristen happy, and then Andre got serious.

"…_I will do everything in my power to protect her. To that end I have begun an investigation into John Black's past. So far, the information I have learned is chilling. He has the potential to be very different from the man we think we know. He is capable of great evil. He is capable of killing without the twinge of conscious…"_

Tony hit the pause button on the remote and stared at the figure of his cousin in front of him. It seemed likely the tape was made for the explicit purpose of setting John up, but still, the venom raging in Andre's voice suggested there was more to this recital than the surface intent and the very last few words Andre had spoken to him on the island so many years ago came back to him now…"_You are not the only one he…" _Andre hadn't been able to finish his accusation, still it swirled in Tony's mind. They'd been talking about Eleanor's twins and who was responsible for their deaths. Andre had lost a son as well, or at least he'd believed it for a time. Was John somehow tied to what happened to Colin, or perhaps was there another child Tony didn't know about?

What he did know was his cousin's personality. No one screwed Andre over twice because he never forgave a slight, never forgave or forgot or allowed the person responsible to forget either. With this thought in mind, Tony hit the play button and listened to the rest of the tape.

"_The danger is that John doesn't realize what is buried in his subconscious mind. If his past does return, he will be a threat, a danger in spite of himself. He is so openly hostile to me. If the dark forces of his nature are triggered, he will kill me. Now I must to do everything in my power possible to protect Kirsten from John, even if it means John comes after me to stop me. I will do everything possible to help John but I will also make out my last will and testament in the event that my most…that my worst fears come true…."_

Hitting the replay, Tony listened the whole thing several times. He had to admit that to anyone other than him, it was nearly impossible to recognize the fact that this was an imposter. Yes, Andre had his own mannerisms and the fact he smoked through from beginning to end but he had Tony's phrasing down perfectly and if Tony hadn't already remembered so much of his past that he had reason to know Andre hated John, he might have suspected he made the tape himself and the memory of doing so was simply lost to him.

And the information it contained was presented flawlessly, just enough to create suspicion but nothing that could lead John or anyone else to the truth.

Anyway, Tony couldn't fathom any of it being a message to John since Andre never meant for him to leave Aremid alive. It was designed with another purpose in mind though, otherwise there would be no reason to reason to label the top with the quote from Psalms and the only two people who would recognized the letter and number for what it was, would have been Tony and his father.

So, what was buried in the message he was missing?

He listened to all of it again, and still nothing, and again as just as the last line was being uttered, the words hit him…last will and testament.

Andre had written himself a will.

And Tony whistled softly to himself at his cousin's ingenious slight of hand. "Well, you clever boy. You wanted to send a message from beyond the grave and what better way to hide it than in plain sight and then name the one man you wished to reach as the executor," murmured Tony, shaking his head. Only the legal deeds to property would have been overseen by the court, leaving personal items to the discretion of whomever was responsible for overseeing that the will be probated and Tony knew without a doubt who Andre would want that person to be….

Stefano.


	46. Chapter FortyFive

Time: day before

Place: Paris, France

Shane got off the phone with Anna just as Patrick returned from his errand, looking none too pleased.

"Her flight is arriving ahead of schedule," he told his boss in a voice bordering on insolent and Shane rolled his eyes.

"If you think I'm any happier with this situation than you are, you're dreaming my boy. At the very least, I'm going to have to listen to her complaints or questions all the way to London."

"Is that all," muttered Patrick. The idea of having to meet Shane's ex-wife at the airport and explain to her exactly why her traveling companion was not there to pick her up as he'd promised sounded worse that being expected to explain to the director of the ISA all of the shenanigans he and Shane had pulled over the last nine months. He'd met the former Mrs. Donavan once or twice and didn't relish the thought of confronting her temper. Besides, meeting her plane and driving her to Shane's place was the easiest part of the assignment, or at least it would be if the Contessa were still around when they arrived. He certainly didn't have any desire to witness that confrontation. Shane had tried at first convincing Patrick that he'd probably find the entire mess entertaining but Patrick knew better. Years' worth of time spent in a house with women like his mother and sister who rarely spoke to anyone without screeching had made young Patrick wary of domestic disputes and thoroughly content in his decision to lead a quiet bachelor existence.

On the other side of the desk, Shane simply ignored the jab, partially because they'd already argued about this for close to thirty minutes and he was going to be late if he didn't leave. Picking up his phone, he busied himself with shoving a few more files into his briefcase. "Then I'll see you in a couple of hours," he said, grabbing the case and eyeing Patrick one more time. "I do appreciate this," he added, hoping he sounded as though he meant it before slipping past the younger man.

"Sure, no problem," Patrick growled at the door. How did he get himself into these predicaments?

Already halfway down the hall, Shane promptly put Patrick's qualms out of his mind. He'd deal with Kimberly when she was at his door. There was nothing he could do at this point to change anyone's schedule and the sooner he reached his own front door and got this meeting with Anna over with, the better his chances of diffusing the situation by making certain she'd be gone when Kimberly arrived.

Not that it stopped him from cursing Tony several more times before reaching his car, for having the nerve to ask this of him.

The worst part was that he couldn't refuse. Despite all of Shane's doubts about Tony's marriage, the truth was that both Tony and Anna had remained true to their word, and the respective parts they needed to play in order to fool everyone else. Even Anna's daughter was completely in the dark. Shane didn't need to imagine how difficult this was for them since he'd spent the last ten years in roughly the same position to some extent; knowing Kimberly was only a matter of hours away by plane but accepting the fact that his chosen lifestyle had nearly destroyed her. Tony had done as Shane once, walked away because he believed it best for everyone involved, especially Anna, only to have it be his downfall, or so Tony was convinced, enough to seize the risk that Shane had hung back and refused to take all these years.

And damn, how he'd wanted Tony's choice in Montreal to be a mistake, he'd realized later on.

If Tony had been wrong, then Shane would have no reason to feel the sense of guilt which had begun to seep into his thoughts when it came to his family, or what should have been his family, what could have been if he'd just get past all the barriers he'd constructed, the apologies that should have been offered years ago, the explanations…doing what it took to swallow his pride and admit he'd screwed up, badly.

Why was it that someone like Tony DiMera could bring himself to do that, and Shane still balked at the idea?

It wasn't as though the secrets rattling around in Tony's closet were any less destructive than those belonging to Shane, to the point that they were liable any moment blow up in their faces. Not only was Tony's sister-in-law the mother of his children, she and Tony shared a past, one that might, quite possibly tear apart not only Tony's marriage but John and Marlena's as well.

Oh yes, John would stand by her, but what of Marlena, once she remembered?

How would she come to terms with knowing that Tony had very nearly lost his life trying to send her home to John…to the man who'd seduced Tony's wife, to the man it now appeared was in some way responsible for the death of Tony's children, to the man that had almost allowed Tony to fall to his death just a few months ago because John was so convinced of _his_ version of the truth?

The entire situation seemed on the verge of obliterating the lives of everyone involved and so doing whatever was possible to defuse it to some extent seemed prudent to Shane. At the moment, that meant making certain that he could give Tony the opportunity he'd asked for, to explain this mess to his wife, face to face.

Of course, Shane still didn't have to like it.

* * *

Kimberly's eyes scoured the crowd of friends and family members awaiting the arrival of their loved ones but the face she was searching for did not stand out in the sea of strangers beyond the railing.

"Do you see Daddy?" asked Jeannie, struggling with the backpack she'd insisted on overloading because she didn't want to be without the necessary items she might miss between LA and Paris. It turned out none of them had been needed as she'd slept the entire way.

"Not yet. Why don't you set that down before you drop it on someone."

"I told you, I can handle it."

Kimberly didn't even bother to roll her eyes anymore at her daughter's ability to have an answer for everything.

"Ms. Brady?"

Surprised to hear her name uttered in a strange foreign airport and not by the person she'd been expecting, she wheeled about, coming face to face with her ex-husband's young assistant who towered above her. "Ah…." Damn, she couldn't remember his name. "I'm sorry…."

"Patrick," he hurriedly offered. "Lockhart."

"Ah yes, thank you, Patrick," she said, offering her hand to him, His grip was firm, but apparently, he'd rushed to get here as he was sweating. "And I don't believe you've ever met my daughter." Kimberly stepped backwards, and arm outstretched towards Jeanne who gawked at the young man. "This is Jeannie….darling," Kim tried making eye contract with her, to no avail, "this is Mr. Lockhart. He works with your father," said Kim, hoping the latter bit of information might stop her from eyeing the poor boy as though he were lunch.

Patrick smiled politely, shook Jeannie's hand, and immediately ignored with good grace the fact he was being stared at. "Ms Br…"

"Please, it's Kimberly." She told him and swore it made him look nervous all of the sudden.

"Well you see, Captain Donavan is…"

"Parking the car perhaps?" suggested Kim hopefully. Even as the words came out of her mouth, it sounded ridiculously silly since Shane would have simply had his assistant do the parking.

Patrick gulped. "I'm afraid not. Something came up."

It was impossible to miss the flash of irritation that darkened Kimberly's gaze as soon as she realized that Shane had allowed his job to interfere with a moment he'd promised was so important she'd changed her ticket to meet him here instead of flying directly to London. Damn it, why did she keep hoping he'd change? Not that it had anything to do with the reason she'd come. After all, this wasn't _just_ about a family vacation.

Kim had done a great deal of soul searching since her father had suffered his heart attack, or perhaps it began before that, even from the moment she'd gotten the call from Roman about that blasted memorial service he and so many members of her family had attended.

Tony throwing a funeral for Stefano.

Why on earth would he do such a thing she'd wondered at the time…Tony loathed his father and what he stood for, and despite everything she'd heard about what may or may not have transpired in Aremid, she knew the animosity he bore Stefano had been well earned. Of course the rest of the Brady's paid no attention to that fact any longer. Bo and Roman, and especially her father, had all agreed with John that Tony had been seduced by his family's wealth and power and meant to follow the old man's path, the one her brothers trusted led straight to hell and as the months progressed, and first Hope was kidnapped and then Colin murdered, Kim had to admit it seemed as though they'd been right.

And yet, with all of the mounting evidence, Shane refused to investigate Tony's activities. He'd give no explanation for his decision either.

So, what did he know about all of this?

She hated the idea, the suspicion that he of all people could put her family, including his own children in jeopardy because of his job. That was not the Shane she'd loved. That wasn't in his nature, and yet how many times had he allowed it to come between them in the past?

All of this and more had spilled out vehemently a few days after her father's heart attack when she'd phoned Shane. His blank refusal to assist in any way set her off and she'd demanded an explanation of him, one she never got. In fact, she didn't get much of anything out of him which only pissed her off all the more so that the conversation quickly deteriorated and within minutes she'd accused him of some rather vile behavior, including the fact she believed he was doing this on purpose because of their past and though he'd swallowed the rest of her accusations silently, this one indictment made him snap back that she of all people had no room to talk about avoiding their past, considering she'd married someone else in order to run away from it.

Once she'd gotten past the blind fury that jab produced, she was left with the lingering doubts. Not about his comments per se or the ruins of the love they'd once shared…no, she knew Shane Donavan and she knew when he lashed out as he had, that something else was bothering him, something he was bottling up inside in an effort to keep it from her, and that type of avoidance could produce a truck load of guilt.

That was the true purpose of this visit she reminded herself now, not their own past or any of Shane's shortcomings when it came to his treatment of her.

"Ms. Brady…." Patrick's voice invaded the confusion swirling in her head and making an effort, she pulled herself together.

"I see…so will he be meeting us in London?"

Patrick's grimace was fleeting but still noticeable. "He um….tried to change the departure time on all of the tickets but I'm afraid the flights were all booked until later on this evening and so he asked me to bring you along to his house." The younger man's voice grew even more uncomfortable as he explained this new set of circumstances. "So that you could freshen up."

Kim folded her arms across her chest. "His house."

Patrick nodded stiffly.

"How….thoughtful."

The tone in her voice was civil but it was obvious she was not pleased and even Jeanne eyed her mother nervously, recognizing just how upset she was.

Of course, there was nothing to be done. If it wasn't for her family and the straights they found themselves in all because of the DiMera's once again, she would have marched right over to the nearest ticket counter and purchased the first plane seat back to Los Angeles but, that was not the case, besides which, there was Jeannie, staring at her…Jeannie who had spent the last several weeks dreaming of this trip, and her son, who was counting on the visit she'd promised him. But someone was going to hear about this, she promised herself as she took a deep breath and smiled sweetly at Patrick. "In that case, I'll have to make certain our luggage has been…"

"I've already taken care of that," he told her. "And please," he reached his hand out to Jeanne, "let me carry that backpack for you. It looks quite heavy."

Jeannie was only too happy to oblige and in moments they were on their way to join the line of tourists waiting to get through customs.

* * *

For perhaps the first time in her life, Anna was prompt, mostly because she was dying of curiosity.

Shane had kept his distance since the very beginning of this thing. He had approved her request…allowed her to accompany him to Montreal the previous New Years but otherwise their contact had been minimal and so his request to meet him, and his unexplained questions about which dates in her schedule were already taken, had piqued her interest so that it was now at a fevered pitch as she'd spent yesterday imagining all the possibilities.

The door opened as she walked up the step and Shane's housekeeper waved her inside.

"Good morning, Contessa…Captain Donavan is waiting. This way please." And she showed Anna to a graciously appointed study, decorated in a rather English style, walls covered in mahogany paneling and floor to ceiling shelves, full of leather bound books, and only one shuttered window for light. Thankfully it didn't smell stuffy.

"Anna," Shane had jumped up from his old leather chair as soon as the door opened, striding over to greet her, and taking her hand his, raised it to his mouth to leave a kiss. "You look divine, as always."

"And you look in need of a vacation," she quipped, a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes.

Shane didn't even blink. "Funny you should mention that." After walking her over to the empty fireplace, he offered her an overstuffed chair to sit in directly across from his and gestured at the tray on the table in front of it, which contained tea and scones. She'd already had her allotted coffee for the morning and declined. "I called you here," he continued after she'd settled herself, "because I've been asked to arrange a vacation for you…to a quirky and ah…well compared to our fair city of culture and beauty, rather provincial town."

Anna's eye widened eagerly. "Salem? Tony wants me to come…but…why wouldn't he simply ask me himself, or are there some special arrangements being made?"

For an instant he didn't reply, and his hesitation lasted just long enough to let her know that this trip wasn't entirely about Tony missing her. "We've had a few kinks to work out, yes and schedules to get around so that your replacement would be able to take a few days off and perhaps accompany Mr. Corville to the country for a short holiday."

"You've gone to an awful lot of trouble then…a double for me, and will there one for Tony as well?"

Perhaps the tiny hint of alarm she noted on his face at her comment was due to the concerns he had to be dealing with her being _in _Salem.

Still, he didn't elaborate. "Well, it wouldn't do to get sloppy at this point."

"Of course not."

Again she waited and Shane shuffled his feet nervously where he stood next to the mantle. It took a minute or two but he finally met her gaze. The look in his eyes was guarded.

Anna was not a person known for being direct but she didn't like the vibe she was getting about any of this and while Shane might be a spy, he was at least an honorable one. "What is this all about?"

Shane merely stared back at her with no expression and then, "he has something to tell you and he wanted to able to do it in person."

Anna could feel the breath sucked out of her body suddenly. She'd asked him to be blunt, and that was exactly what she'd she gotten and now she wished she'd kept her mouth shut so that at least she could pretend everything was okay. Damn, how was she supposed to imagine the worst until she arrived in Salem? She'd be a nervous wreck.

Before she even realized it, Shane was sitting on the stool in front of her, reaching for her hand. "Anna, listen to me…"

She shook her head. She knew it was incredibly stupid to be feeling this way, so…scared, so hopeless and…as though everything she'd spent the last nine months dreaming of was about to come crashing down but she couldn't help it. She'd been so certain this time it would be different…

"ANNA!"

Her head jerked up to meet his eyes.

"Nothing has changed the way he feels about you."

God, how she wanted to believe that and he did sound sincere, with his dark gaze that refused to let her turn away. "Then I don't," she gulped and had to force the rest out, "understand."

"I suspect that makes two of us."

"Damn it, I am _not_ in the mood for jokes," she snapped, or any of your obscure British humor after a bomb like that, thank you."

Shane yanked his fingers through thick wavy hair. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I can't provide you with an explanation of what this is all about since that's the reason he'd like to speak you face to face, but he's not requesting you come so he can ask for a divorce, for heaven's sake."

The relief she experienced and the sense of embarrassment at thinking the worst hit simultaneously. "Okay, but there is something, that what…he's worried I'll find out and…"

"No…yes…" For a moment, he paused, searching for the right words, "he's…his priority is doing whatever is necessary to make you feel you are an equal partner in this…mess."

Though it was said with complete sincerity, Anna had to hold back her laughter. "It is that." And then a mocking smile curved her lovely mouth, "And let me guess, _mess_ would equal Marlena Evans Brady Black," she sniped.

Doing his best not to react, Shane merely returned an even stare and Anna rolled her eyes.

"I'd stick to your chosen profession, Shane. Playing marriage counselor doesn't exactly work when you holding back pertinent information."

The smile that broke across Shane's handsome face was lopsided, and the tiniest bit painful. "Well, I don't know about Marlena, but Kimberly would most likely agree with you wholeheartedly," and the lost look he wore tugged at her, so that for a moment, her smile matched his.

"Okay, we've all made more than our share of mistakes I'm sure, but I'd like to think we've learned something in the last twenty years."

"Something, yes…but will it be enough? Or should I say, will your father-in-law permit any of us to be so lucky?"

Hearing that depressed her. "I guess," she ventured after a few long seconds, "that we're both about to find out, one way of the other."

But Shane shook his head. "Unlike your trip Contessa, mine will be completely business related."

"With your ex-wife along?" She snorted in a rather unladylike fashion at the idea of Shane and Kimberly sticking to business.…or at least the kind of business Shane was alluding to.

"Yes, she is…suspicious."

"Of what…" began Anna indignantly but quickly backpedaled, "oh, Shane, I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"If it makes you feel any better, I created this situation. It wasn't anything that you or Tony have done in particular, at least not anything that I didn't," Shane grimaced, "_ask_ him to do…."

"No, but you wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for us."

"The position I'm in with Kimberly has absolutely nothing to do with either of you. I did a damn spanking fine job of messing things up all on my own," he explained, a hint of bitter regret in his voice, "so you needn't worry about it, and I don't want you feeling responsible in any way, please."

Having spent close to the last year obsessed with her own life and the constant risk that there were any number of people out to destroy what she'd finally managed to reclaim, Anna hadn't given that much thought to Shane's predicament, like his relationship with his former in-laws and listening to him berate himself for his marital problems struck a cord in her. After all, she and Tony owed their second chance in large part to him. Certainly he deserved that same opportunity. It was obvious how he still felt about Kimberly, the moment he mentioned her name, it shone in his eyes and animated his entire face and squeezing his hand, she said, "Whatever the reason she's coming, there is always the possibility that she'll…"

"Anna," he interrupted her quickly. "I'd rather not discuss the subject if you don't mind."

"And you won't get very far if you take that tact with her."

He didn't respond, and other than his jaw clenching tightly, his irritation was almost invisible again. Probably due to all the years of practice he'd gotten hiding his emotions but if anyone knew what a mistake that was, it was Anna and silently she thanked whatever fates existed that, for all his faults, Tony didn't do that.

"So, when is this little jaunt you've set up for me going to take place?"

Shane was checking his watch. This was the third time in the last five minutes he'd done so and she guessed that someone else was due to arrive. Bad timing. She didn't want to get in the middle of him and his ex-wife, especially since she'd not be able to explain her presence to Kimberly in a way that would be satisfactory.

"I have the ticket already and Patrick will make sure you have everything you need in time for your departure. I'm afraid I'll still be out of the country. That was the reason I needed you to meet me here this morning."

"You're leaving today."

He nodded absently but then fixed her with a stare. "There's something I need to get off my chest before I leave as well." His eyes were dark and soulful, and for an instant, openly displayed a sense of remorse. "I haven't exactly been all that supportive of your relationship or your marriage, not as much as I should have and I want to apologize for that…"

Anna started to interrupt but Shane shook his head.

"No, I wish you to hear me out."

Nervously, she sat back and waited, getting the feeling there was something he wasn't telling her about this situation, something she wasn't going to like one bit.

"When Tony came to me last year, all of this…situation," he waved his hand in the air, "it was nothing more than a case for me, albeit an old one…sort of unfinished business…"

"Is there any other kind with Stefano?"

That earned her a chuckle even though it was short and rather biting. "I suppose not," and he shrugged. "Anyway I told myself this was an opportunity to set things straight and finally put an end to the threat hanging over all of us, but it's been a long time since I've tangled with the old man…too many years of dealing with adversaries whose motives were easily discernible…everything Stefano is _not_ and I'm embarrassed to say that I forgot the most important lesson when it comes to the DiMeras."

She sat, wondering where all of this was leading.

"Everything with them is personal." He had a strange glint in his eyes as he spoke these words, as though he was trying to warn her, but of what exactly? "Accidents such as yourself, the sort that are unpredictable and reshape everything in their path is the one thing Stefano never counts on, almost as though…he is wearing blinders, believing that family loyalty will overcome every obstacle." A hand brushed affectionately across her cheek, but the determination in his glace still held her almost spellbound. "I want you to remember that."

Even more confused, she opened her mouth to ask him what the bloody hell he was talking about when voices erupted out in the hallway, one of which Anna recognized, despite the number of years and she found her own anxiety at being confronted by Kimberly mirrored in Shane's expression.

"Blast," he mouthed silently. "I was hoping…" but he stopped and sighed. "I am sorry, but I'm afraid I have no secret tunnel that will get you out of here without having to deal with Kim, though I'll see what I can do about diverting her elsewhere so perhaps you can slip out unseen."

"My car is sitting rather prominently in your drive, you know."

"Your car."

Anna nodded.

"The one with the personalized license plate that says 'Contessa DiMera?'"

"Sorry, I would have used Martin's but he was…well, I didn't think about it."

There was a hopeless quality to Shane's smirk when it finally came, as though he was resigned to the inevitable but squirming in her seat, Anna couldn't help but wonder what the hell she'd say to Kim. Anything even resembling the truth was completely out of the question but Shane patted her knee reassuringly and headed to the door.

Opening it to go out and find his ex-wife and his daughter, he almost walked right into Kimberly who stood on the other side, her hand raised, as though she'd been about ready to knock.

"Uh…Kim," he flashed a brilliant smile, "how lovely to see you, I was just coming…."

"…to explain why that car is parked out in front? The one with a DiMera license plate?"

"That would be mine," said Anna, standing up and grabbing her purse, feeling just the twinge of irritation at Kimberly's tone. Though she didn't want to do anything that would make the situation more difficult for Shane, she couldn't help but take exception to the attitude about Tony's family. She was fed up with having to bite her tongue the minute one of her ex-in laws began another tirade on the subject. "The name happens to be mine too, for a little while longer at least, and I'm not ashamed of it."

Shane stood between the two women, his smile gone, watching Kimberly's eyes narrow as she watched Anna cross the room and on impulse, he swung around and took Anna's hand as she reached the door. "Thank you, Contessa." He kissed her on the cheek. "Let me show you out," but Kim did not move aside to make way for them.

"It's been a long time, Anna." And she laughed suddenly. "I have to say this is the last place I expected to meet you again, leaning on Shane of all people."

Anna's smile in return was positively catty. "Well, at least I have all my clothes on, darling, and it's nice to see you too. And didn't I hear that your daughter was coming with you on this trip? I've not had the privilege of meeting her."

Kim shot a look at Shane.

"Carrie told me," Anna informed her. "Apparently she didn't realize it was a national secret."

"It's not."

"Oh, then it's me."

For an instant, it appeared that Kim's suspicions wavered. "Of course not, I'm just surprised and…" she hesitated as her gaze shifted to Shane and then back again to Anna. "Would you mind? I'd really like to speak to you before you leave."

"If this is about Tony…"

"Please, it would really help me if you'd…" Her dark, expressive eyes searched Anna's as though she was looking to find the tiniest spark she recognized, to reach the woman she'd known once, "…listen to what I have to ask you. If you can't answer, I'll understand."

Though Shane was looking down, studying his shoes or the floor or whatever to avoid reacting to this small exchange, Anna knew he had to be praying silently that she'd refuse but doing that would only create more tension between him and Kimberly in Anna's view and perhaps talking to her would help the situation….she hoped. "Alright."

Several long moments of silence followed and Shane raised his head to find both women staring at him. "Yes well, I'll just go find Jeannie."


	47. Chapter FortySix

Place: Paris, France

Time: Same Day

Once Shane was gone, Kim joined Anna in the study, swinging the door shut rather forcefully though it didn't actually slam.

"So Anna, what are you doing here?" Kim began without preamble, her eyes flashing with something that might have been jealously.

"Is that all you wanted to ask me? Why I'm visiting an old friend?" She hoped her shrug looked suitably nonchalant. "I ah…well, I do believe that is information you ought to ask Shane personally."

"Are you involved with him?"

The two woman stared at each other a moment, amid a slice of awkward silence while Anna did her best to hold back the snide remark she was itching to let fly, one that wouldn't help Shane any. "I'm already engaged…to someone else."

More silence and then Kimberly nodded. "Yes, I heard. Carrie told me the news last fall, and she mentioned that he is an old friend of yours…" She left it hanging as though it were a question and when Anna didn't bite, she added, "and Tony's."

"Yes, that would all be perfectly true and thank you for your hearty congratulations and best wishes."

Ignoring Anna's sarcasm, Kimberly continued her speculation, "I find it curious that this means you still retain connections to the DiMera's, and then I find you here, which you've just pointed out has nothing to do with Shane personally."

"That's right."

"So then your presence here _is_ related to the DiMeras..."

The assumption in her voice that she'd already known this to be the purpose of the visit reminded Anna why she stayed as far away from Salem as possible and her patience snapped. "If you want to ask me about Tony, just spit it out."

"Okay, have you been in contact with him?"

"Yes."

Kim recovered from the shock rather quickly Anna noted. "That is not what you told your daughter I understand."

"And you no doubt have told your children absolutely everything about your relationship with their step-father, or better yet, your past with Shane, and then of course," she chuckled, "there was all that time you spent in Europe doing god knows what."

She could tell she'd hit a nerve though Kim covered it well. "Neither of my husbands have murdered any of my children's relatives and neither of them belongs to a family that has terrorized us for years."

Anna could feel her eyes narrow furiously. "That takes some nerve, to stand there and preach to me about the DiMeras and the pain they've caused the Bradys…as though none of the rest of us suffered in the least."

"I'm aware of what you went through," began Kim.

"And who was sitting right beside me?" Anna snapped furiously, "who endured much more than I did? I know you're aware of that too."

Kim nodded. "Which he seems to have forgotten in his new found admiration for the methods of someone he professes even now to hate."

"Oh, I see, this is all about that stupid memorial service, but tell me Kim, do you honestly believe that it had anything to do with admiration for Stefano, or merely distaste for those so hypocritical, they'd crucify a man based on nothing more than his paternity."

"I don't know what Tony has said to you but there is much more to it than that."

"Perhaps, but that was not the case when he arrived back in town last year and you know as well as I do that annoying little fact didn't matter one whit to either of your brothers. They were absolutely convinced, weren't they?"

"What are you saying?"

"Oh really Kim," spat out Anna with disgust, "you're a psychiatrist now…do you really need me to spell it out for you?"

Doubt began to cloud Kimberly face. "You believe they are inventing what they want to see..."

"Yes. They were convinced he was behind Hope's kidnapping, both him and his sister, and they were completely wrong, but instead of an apology, their failure to nail him has only fired both of them up to the point they won't be satisfied until they are proven right, and Tony is locked up, guilty or not."

"You're so positive that he is not guilty…what do you know?" demanded Kim and without hesitation, Anna shot back.

"Nothing."

They both knew it was a lie.

"My god, you are involved in this, aren't you?"

"Oh stop being such a fool. I told you, I've got a new life of my own and I'm not about to let Tony or his family, or _your_ family screw it up for me. It's taken long enough to finally reach this point..."

"Yes, it has," said Kim, as a smile began to curl the corner of her mouth and her eyes lit up and Anna had to practically swallow her tongue to avoid asking what she meant. "I find it quite fascinating how you waited all these years, all that time Tony was supposed to be dead without ever taking such a step and suddenly, I hear from Carrie, at almost the same moment Tony shows back up in Salem that you're getting married again…to one of Tony's oldest friends no less…only the wedding still hasn't taken place. How many times have you postponed it already?"

Damn, this woman was too sharp for her own good, fumed Anna though it wasn't Kim's ability to guess the truth that worried her. If Kim saw through the ruse, so would Stefano but she couldn't dwell on that now. "It's been rescheduled once, in deference to Martin's father when his wife passed away," she explained.

Kim's suspicion didn't seem to lesson. "But Martin has known Tony's family for years, so I must ask again, are you feeding information to Shane about the DiMeras?"

"No," said Anna, with complete conviction.

"What about your fiancé?"

"I have no idea, though to my knowledge the only time Martine and Shane have met was by chance a month or so ago when we ran into each other at dinner. Now if that is all," said Anna breezily, with a smile as she reached for the door handle, "I have an appointment that I'm late for…"

"Anna please…" Kimberly caught the sleeve of her jacket to keep her from leaving. "Carrie's grandfather almost died because of your ex-husband, can't you please think about her?"

Anna yanked her arm out of Kimberly's grasp and could feel her face burning almost immediately, she was so angry. "You are hardly in a position to be preaching to me about my choices and how they affect my daughter. I am sick of hearing it from your brother, and I'm not about to listen to you or any other member of your family lay a guilt trip on me about my past with Tony, and perhaps the issue here isn't truly me or Tony, but what you obviously imagine is going on between us and wish you could have for yourself and your ex-husband."

"Excuse me?"

Anna smiled. "You heard me just fine and you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Yes," returned Kim, with something of a drawl to her voice, "though not in the way you're suggesting."

"Really? And what is that supposed to mean?"

There was a sharp look in Kimberly's eye suddenly and she shrugged. "Only that you're doing an admirable job of twisting this around to make it seem as though it's about Shane and I instead of answering one simple question that would put my mind to rest about Shane's connection to Tony DiMera."

"So, you don't trust Shane."

Kimberly quickly turned away, but not fast enough to hide the truth from Anna, and in doing so, missed the look of sadness that clouded Anna's eyes. "I thought, in the interest of family," said Kim after a brief moment of silence, "and the lengths you say you've gone to in order to distance yourself from Tony that you'd be willing to…oh, I don't know…open up about what you know."

"And it never occurred to you how painful that might be for me?"

For the first time since Kimberly's arrival, she found herself lost for words apparently.

"Even if you no longer have a relationship with Shane, you have your children," Anna reminded her in a soft voice that required concentration to smother the bitterness she felt. "You have a tangible, amazing reminder of what the two of your shared together and what it created instead of the constant reminders I'm faced with every single time the subject of my ex-husband is brought up by you or any other member of your family. You tell me how that would feel if you had to deal with it on daily basis, especially if it came from your own daughter who in my case, is being told by her father on every occasion he is able to fit the subject in, what a monster I was married to once upon a time."

"It's not meant that way…"

Anna didn't even bother replying, other than a snort of sarcastic laughter. When it died away, an awkward silence lengthened so that the pendulum on Shane's old clock sitting off on the mantle became a stark contrast to the give and take between the two women though the sound of it faded from Anna's consciousness as soon as Kimberly turned around to face her, not bothering to hide the tear stain on her cheek, or her dark eyes that were bright with emotion.

"I'm sorry…I know how much you loved him and no one…not even Roman should make you regret those memories."

"How very grac…" but Anna bit her tongue before the next word came spewing out and reminded herself that she was doing this to help Shane, not take out her frustrations. Trying to look contrite, she took a deep breath and said, "Whether you trust Shane or not, I refuse to accept that you'd believe him capable of any action that would bring harm to you or his children."

"No."

It wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, but Anna could hear how badly Kimberly wanted it to be true. That was a start at least. "I thought you of all people," said Anna after a quiet moment, "would know how destructive suspicion can be to any kind of relationship."

Kimberly simply returned a thoughtful look without saying anything but just as Anna, who figured there was nothing left to say, reached for the door and pulled it open, came the words she'd been expecting from the beginning of their conversation…

"Tell Tony that Bo and Roman and John are not the only ones watching him."


	48. Chapter FortySeven

Place: Paris

Time: Same Day

Shane waited until he heard Anna's car roar out of the drive. By then, Jeanne was beyond even pretending there was someone else in the room as she plied Patrick with questions about the exciting world of espionage and Shane decided this was as good an opportunity as he was going to get to determine the damage done before climbing onto an airplane full of people, only to find Kim not speaking to him at all.

"I'll be back," he said, dropping a light kiss on top of his daughter's head. She actually looked up and nodded but only because Patrick was being a allowed a rare opportunity to express himself, so that Jeannie could gaze at him with that dreamy expression she'd worn since entering the house.

"Teenagers," he muttered, shaking his head. Course, he would have preferred those sorts of problems to the one he was facing now.

The door to the study was open and Kim stood over in front of the mantle, with a picture in her hand, one taken about five years earlier on Christmas when he'd come out to visit them in Los Angeles. He couldn't see her face but the stillness in her manner made him pause. The picture was cradled in one hand and she was tracing and outlines with her finger with such gentleness. It was as though in her mind, she was touching real hair and flesh instead of glass.

He wasn't sure how long they remained that way before she became aware of his presence and her hand stopped moving. Without saying a word to him, she set the picture back in its place.

"You want to know what she was doing here," he observed as she stood with her back to him.

"And you're not going to tell me."

She didn't even make it a question and he tried to detect the accusation in her tone that normally would have accompanied any comment pertaining to how he allowed his job to interfere but it wasn't there this time. Instead, it came across as a simple fact she'd grown accustomed to and he stared. Perhaps he'd not heard correctly.

"Kim?"

Another moment of silence took over the room and then she turned, wearing a smile. "Where's Jeannie?"

"In the kitchen…" he began, unable to discard his natural skepticism.

"With Patrick?"

"Oh yeah…glued to his every word and well…" he shrugged. "I wager she'll suggest he ride along with us to the airport."

"A wager, eh?"

This time he did hear the slightest hint of a purpose buried in the levity. Kim had always been one to tackle a problem head on to begin with unlike Anna who adored games, but Kim's encounter with Tony's wife appeared to have her rethinking the tactics she'd been using so far. He just wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not quite yet but he had to admit it was a bloody sight easier than the tension between them lately. Whether it would last was another question.

"And what," she asked, leaning back against the smoothness of the mahogany mantle, "shall be the prize?"

"You sound pretty confident."

For the first time since her arrival, Kim's smile beamed in a way that sent his heart hammering in his chest. "Knock it off Donavan," he told himself sternly but he couldn't seem to wipe away the silly grin he felt plastered across his face.

"Jeannie's attention span doesn't last all that long. She'll have lost interest before we finish lunch, depending on what you're serving."

"Oh?"

"Well, if Patrick is more entertaining than the food, you could just have a shot at winning though we still haven't determined what the lucky recipient will receive."

Shane eyed his ex-wife who still stood across the room from him, having not moved even one step closer and decided it was time to see just how serious she was. "Then I will let you name it."

And he was rewarded with a look of surprised delight.

"Anything?"

"Short of a visit to the queen…"

"Don't sell yourself so short. I don't think you'd have any trouble pulling that off."

"Or questions about Tony DiMera."

Her face froze, literally.

The silence between them ballooned until it was deafening, and though she'd done her best to hide the frustrations simmering below the surface, within seconds that all changed and marred the beauty of her expression as her suspicions came boiling to the surface.

"I don't understand why you're doing this Shane," she said, flinging the words at him to cover the pain she was feeling. "Can't you just give me a reason? Anything?"

"What reason could there be that you'd accept?"

"The truth would work just fine."

It was a piercing indictment and it echoed in the room, resonating even as it blasted away at the veneer he'd both consciously and unconsciously built up to deal with her questions.

Damn Tony and damn this stupid unending feud and the ugly snatches of the past it was beginning to reveal.

She wasn't going to like the answers that came eventually.

Shit, _he_ didn't like any of the evidence they'd unearthed so far and the more time they wasted stumbling through this labyrinth Stefano and Andre were busy constructing, hoping, at least for his part that there would be some kind of redeeming explanation at the end of all of it to perhaps save her family's honor, the more damning the facts they turned up. What little hope he'd started out with had vanished after Colin's wake.

Not to mention how ironic the situation was becoming amongst the four of them. At this point, he'd give anything to be able to confide in her, even though he could admit to himself the utter selfishness of such a desire. As awful as this was for his partner, at least Tony had a confidant in his wife…an ocean away to be sure but her support was frankly the only thing holding Tony back from unleashing his emotions.

What the hell was he going to use to save himself, Shane wondered.

The question made him painfully aware once more of her standing there, watching him, her dark eyes haunted with memories of the mistakes he'd made in the past but still displaying her faith in his character…expecting him to do the right thing.

How could he explain to her that was _exactly_ what he was doing?

Shane could feel his jaw clench, trying to hold back his own need to lash out at her assumptions, and worse, her contention that this would all go away if he'd only confide in her.

How positive she was at this moment that anything was better than not knowing. Maybe he ought to suggest she go talk to Tony so she could realize what a mistake that was but anywhere in the vicinity of Tony DiMera was the last place Shane wanted Kimberly. He had to find a way to keep her out of this, at least far enough away that she'd not end up in range of Stefano or Andre, though with someone this stubborn, that was a quandary he still had no answers to.

"The _truth_…" he did his best to swallow his bitterness before it got out of control, "right now is nothing more than few clues and lots of supposition which is as much as your brothers have already because the people with the answers are either dead or missing or too afraid to speak up and I realize that asking you to trust me about this is like asking you to accept that the world might be flat but there isn't anything else…"

"Trust you." Her eyes skewered him with ferocity at the mere suggestion and Shane had the good grace turn away in embarrassment. "You do recall where that has landed me in the past," she said, her voice strained to the point that he barely stand to hear the pain in it without wincing.

"This is different…"

"Oh? Well, it doesn't feel that way to me," she snapped at him. "And were you the one forced to explain to Colin's mother a few months ago that her son is dead because he got involved with someone you can't even touch?"

Shane didn't bother answering that, mostly because he didn't trust himself to do so without giving away the fact it would be an outright lie and Kimberly would pick up on that pretty easily. She'd had plenty of experience with that aspect of his job over the years, and his methods of dealing with it, though he certainly recognized her allusion to their past with Victor as well, a thorn in their relationship that he'd been responsible for and no matter how many years seemed to pass, it was a mistake that simply wouldn't die thanks to his own stupidity. Anyway, this was a conversation that was quickly going to degenerate if he didn't put a stop to it now. He didn't like the idea of it following them through the rest of the trip but that was preferable to the alternative.

Lifting his head to face her, the truth of what was coming made him ache for her. God, how he wanted to soften the blow somehow but she was more than liable to point the finger at him when it finally played out and he could hardly blame her. Still the thought twisted his gut into knots. Why had he left things this way until it was too late?

He could already see the sense of betrayal lurking in the back of her gaze.

"I don't even recognize you anymore Shane, You've changed into the kind of person you used to despise…"

Her accusation, uttered in an incredulous, anguished tone cut deep, worse than he would have imagined.

"God, I didn't want to believe it before but it's…" she had to stop and swallow back her tears before she continued. "…true. You really have sold out your principles. And for what? So that they'll appoint you to run the ISA?" Her breathing was growing faster now as her imagination and suspicions took over. "You know, Anna just questioned me…or perhaps on your cue made sure to point out that you'd never do anything to put me or your children in danger but you can't imagine that I'd accept you kowtowing to the DiMeras as evidence that you care about their safety."

"I'm NOT selling out my children, or my principles for the DiMeras."

"Then prove it."

Shane shook his head in despair.

"You have information about Tony that you're keeping from Roman and Bo. The fact that you're blocking John's access at the ISA and now I find Anna here only proves…."

"I'm doing what? Kim, _I'm_ the one who sent someone to help John."

Her eyes burned even brighter now as it seemed the odd decisions he'd making over the last year began to fit a pattern. "Help him or is the man you sent been given another purpose entirely, is he there to keep John from asking too many of the wrong questions? Tell me," she demanded before he could argue with her contention, "just how was it that Tony so conveniently showed up at the compound last November when you were the only one privy to the fact that John had access to the location of the island?"

Shane had to keep himself from rolling his eyes in disgust. "Let me get this straight. You think that Tony DiMera needs _my_ help to keep tabs on anyone?"

"John isn't _anyone…_and he's convinced that Tony was tipped off and that he arrived first so that he could make sure Marlena found that letter, the one Daphne _supposedly_ wrote about them being brothers."

"I can't help John's paranoia when it comes to the DiMeras. I tried pointing that out to him when I was there…that he and Bo could be wrong as Tony wasn't implicated in the information I'd dug up on Welsh, but neither of them would listen to me. At the time, I could sympathize with Bo's inability to be rational as Hope was missing but John hasn't even tried being rational about Tony or his old man for years."

"Considering those twins turned out to be Marlena and Tony's children, what, in God's name is he supposed to think?"

"Kim, I…" Shane's voice trailed away. This was pointless and getting them nowhere except further apart.

"You can't say it, can you?"

"There is _nothing_ to say."

"Really," she shot back, the derision in her tone obvious. "And all those questions you kept asking Pop when you were in Salem, about Colin and that damn boat Stefano left him in the will."

Shane swore silently to himself. Knowing Kimberly as he did, he should expected that after their conversation and his refusal to investigate Tony following Shawn's heart attack…that she would start asking questions of her own….well, that and listening to John and her brothers, all of whom were beyond obsessed with their witch hunt as tensions worsened in Salem. Though Tony wasn't exactly his favorite person lately, Shane had to admit this was getting out of hand, and Tony wasn't exactly the forgiving type. If John or anyone else pushed, Tony was going to push back. Problem was, Shane had no idea of how to stop it from happening, of if he should.

"I questioned your father because both Roman and Bo came to me and asked if I would help them out as he refused to answer any of their questions, or did they leave out that little detail when they spoke to you?"

Kim searched his face and he could tell that she understood this was exactly the kind of thing her brothers would confide. "They did?"

He nodded and then, "The only reason I was able to assist them when Hope disappeared was a lucky coincidence…"

"There are no coincidences when it comes to the DiMeras."

"But that's just it," he explained with as much patience as he could muster. "Welsh is hardly in the same league and he's made himself the wrong enemies over the years, ones who were only to happy to rat him out to gain immunity for themselves." It wasn't entirely a lie, he reminded himself as he watched her take in this information thoughtfully. He could tell, as suspicious as she was, she really did want to believe him and though it made him feel a complete heel, he'd take whatever he could get for now.

"That still doesn't explain you total unwillingness to help work with the Salem PD or John, or share whatever you learn about Tony."

Shane threw his hands up in frustration. "And what has he done that is against the law exactly? Announce in a public place that he and John are related or attend a wake for the man that he believes saved his life once, thereby upsetting your father, who I'll remind you once again is the one refusing to tell any of us the reason for this grudge. If he is not willing to help us at this point Kimberly, my hands are tied. Tony hasn't done anything that is against the law in Salem, let alone any international statutes that I could use as a basis for an investigation. I have to be able to give the department a reasonable case before they gamble the kind of funding that such scrutiny would require."

"I know that but surely his family's business dealings aren't legal."

"Kim…" he said her name softly, mostly in an effort to stifle his own frustration. "Tossing the man in jail for smuggling, or anything else I might be able to come up with isn't going to solve the problem for more than a month at the outside. He and his family have been doing business for decades and know all the tricks. There is no way we'd be able to access the information we need to find, not to mention it would tip him off that we suspect him of something much more dangerous."

"But if you're not doing anything…"

"I didn't say that."

"Yes you did when I called you in January, you refused to begin an investigation."

"A formal one, yes."

"Come on Shane, you wouldn't even discuss the subject with me at all."

"That's because I _can't_ Kimberly and you already know that for heaven's sake."

The confusion and pain in her eyes at these words was like getting a knife in his gut but he kept himself from turning away. If he did, she'd know he was lying. She might read it in his expression anyway but he could tell how upset she was, how conflicted. As suspicious as she was that he just _might _be doing something that would benefit Tony, the fact was that she didn't truly believe that was possible, not intentionally at least. She could yell at him, throw it in his face that his job meant more to him than she did, but deep down, she couldn't fathom the idea of him selling out his principles.

"And if I could talk my father into opening up and confiding in you?"

"Then you'd be a miracle worker because believe me, everyone else I can think of has tried and run headlong into the block wall that is Shawn's stubbornness and given his condition, I honestly don't see your mother allowing it."

"And is that a reason or an excuse?" she asked, though with less conviction that only a few moments before and recognizing this was as much of an opening as he was going to squeeze out of the situation for now, Shane conceded.

"If you are able to persuade him to speak to me, I'll listen."

"And if…"

But he shook his head to stop her before she could box him into a promise that at this point would be impossible for him to keep. "First you get Shawn willing to talk, and then we'll go from there."

Kim nodded. She reached over and thanked him by clasping his hand and then left the room, the sound of her shoes on the hardwood floor receding as she make her way down the hall to find Jeanie, and finally Shane let out a sigh of intense relief.

Christ, she'd only been here an hour. How on earth was he going to make it through the rest of the week without digging himself in even deeper?


	49. Chapter FortyEight

Salem

A couple days later

"You expecting something Dad?"

The sound of Rex's voice brought a smile that brightened Tony's face. "A delivery," he answered, turning from where he'd been staring out of the French doors in the living room to see Rex coming in from the foyer. "Yes." It was still early and he was only halfway through his first cup of morning coffee and hadn't expected to see either of the twins for another hour or so but Rex it appeared was wide awake, though still in his robe. Tony wondered if he'd spent all night working on his computer.

"Business?" asked Rex curiously, noting the Salem postmark on the top of the envelope he had in his hands as he carried it over to Tony.

Tony nodded his thanks but otherwise ignored the question, taking the envelope and slipping it into his pocket as he took another swallow of his coffee and gestured in the direction of the table, offering Rex some breakfast.

"Why do you always do that?"

Meeting his son's gaze with a practiced ease that was beginning to wear thin after the last several months, Tony turned back to the scene that beckoned outside. For some reason this morning it reminded him of Kirsten. That happened so rarely anymore that the memories took him by surprise and soon he'd found himself remembering a horseback ride they'd taken on just such a morning as this, down along the edge of the lake which had been so still it gleamed with a magnificent luster, the entire surface radiating the sun so that it transformed the scene into something magical...

"I wish you'd stop treating me as though I'm naïve…still a child just because of the way I was raised…can't you at least allow me to learn about the family business?"

The boy's wounded pride was blatantly apparent in the accusation, and he was right. Tony was going to have to think of something to appease him. If not, Rex would no doubt finagle a way of getting involved on his own and while the prospect of watching his son demonstrate the abilities that Tony knew he possessed in spades rather appealed to him, it would hardly be the most intelligent move, not with this father lurking.

Tony had tossed a fit about Cassie's newest venture into the world of reality television but he'd also been the one praying for something to keep her occupied, and though this wasn't what he had it mind, he had to admit it was working. She'd even stopped the constant hints and suggestions whenever they were together about Marlena and how he could get closer to her if he'd just put a little more effort into his wooing when they were together instead of arguing about John, and as usual, the thought of Marlena reminded him that Anna would be arriving in less than a week. That thought made him sigh with longing and a touch of resignation.

"I'm not that hopeless, am I?"

Crestfallen, Rex eyed him, seemingly waiting for a verdict or the preverbal ax to fall and instantly Tony felt guilty. "Of course not, but this isn't business, nor is it anything you need to worry about, son."

That didn't go over so well either as he could see Rex considered it a dodge. "Are you ever going to trust us?"

Rex had his share of normal male inhibitions and had displayed his prickly nature on a number of occasions but his emotions remained closer to the surface than most boys his age, and he wasn't afraid to show them. His disappointment was obvious now so that Tony felt a complete heel and knowing he was doing all of this to keep both of the twins safe didn't help diminish his guilt, which in turn made him curse his father even more vehemently. God, he hated this ridiculous balancing act he'd been doing his damndest to maintain since he'd come back from the compound. It made him feel even dirtier than operating that whorehouse.

"I trust both you and your sister completely but this involves my past…_my_ mistakes. The idea of them effecting you and Cassie may be inevitable in the eyes of some, but I'd rather not contribute to that situation if I can help it."

"And why would knowing about your past change anything for us?"

"Well, for one thing, knowing the family secrets has destroyed a number of your relatives."

He could see from the look on his son's face that Rex was thinking back to the conversation they'd all had before Colin's wake a few months earlier, after the twins had discovered the family Bible and plied him with questions about the old photographs tucked inside, and about the past…

"I told you a few of the details about what happened to my wife, and there were others."

"The one who is dead…the one John stole from you."

Tony sighed, and took another swallow of his coffee that was quickly growing cold. "He was part of it, yes, but there were others as well and…" Pausing, he met his son's fervent gaze and silently debated with himself about how much he could afford to tell him at this point because Rex was showing signs lately of wanting to prove himself in ways that made Tony nervous. If the boy got wind that his old mentor was tied to Andre…or learned any of what Andre and Rolf had been responsible for, especially when it came to his mother or Cassie, Tony feared Rex's need for payback might consume him. "Those involved aren't really the issue," he said, trying to diffuse the tension with a shrug, "it's just personal, and a mess I don't want to involve you and your sister in. John is your stepfather. Whatever I feel about him, your mother cares for him very deeply and I don't want to put the two of you in the middle.

A frown slowly creased his son's face. "But wouldn't it be better if you told us before it all came out in public, like at the wake for Shawn's cousin?"

Reminding Tony of Colin's wake was the wrong thing to do and his temper kicked in. "Enough," he snapped, brushing past Rex to slam his cup down onto the table and he stood, staring down with unseeing eyes as he fumed once more at that impossible situation he found himself mired in and what it was doing to his children. Damn his father, but he was sick to death of lying to these two, of being forced to manipulate them, and worse, living in fear everyday that nothing he did would be enough to keep them safe from his cousin, or Stefano.

"Tony, I….look, I'm sorry, but it just seems that whatever this feud is between you and John, it's not going to disappear anytime soon, no matter how Marlena feels about him and it would be easier to understand why you're both so angry, and why he's so threatened by us…by our entire family if you'd…I don't know…share some of what happened between the two of you."

"What happened." Tony shook his head with disgust. "That's a story that never bloody well ends..." but his voice trailed off.

"I'll settle for the abbreviated version," said Rex with a persistence that was a trait Tony recognized but wasn't thrilled with at the moment.

"You've already heard that…he seduced my wife and once he had her, he…" Tony had to stop suddenly to keep his voice from cracking under the strain of all the old feelings that came flooding back, most notably the intense hatred that nearly overwhelmed him. What was going on with him this morning? He hadn't let any of this upset him in this way or take control of him for months now.

"Tony…"

A hand rested itself tentatively on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Tony concentrated, willing himself to find a calm center within and cling to it, and as the minutes ticked by, it slowly began to have the desired effect, though he didn't turn to face Rex, when he answered him. "Thank you, and yes I'm …I'll be fine."

Despite the steady voice he'd managed, he could feel his son's eyes burning into him. "Is it really you John hates, or is this a way for him to convey the anger he had for Grandfather?"

The question took Tony by surprise and straightening up, he reached for the pot of coffee and poured another cup. "Why would you think that?" he asked, turning from the table and with only a brief glance at his son, walked back the French doors and the view he felt drawn to, despite the grief it was dredging up.

"John's made no secret of his loathing for Stefano…he and the Bradys always…well, the insults they hurl in your direction carry such resentment as though, despite Stefano being gone, they can't seem to let go, and I get the impression that you've become a convenient substitute for them."

Tony could feel his eyes begin to burn as he listened to his son's quiet assessment of craziness he'd witnessed almost on a daily basis over the last few months. "John has his reasons…more than ample reasons for his attitude when it comes to Stefano, but that's not the reason he hates me," said Tony, still choosing his words carefully. "That was personal and it had nothing to do with my father, though he'd like to excuse his behavior even now by convincing himself and anyone else willing to listen that he had justification, and that, what he feared from the beginning when I arrived back in Salem, came to pass _because_ I am my father's son." The last few words betrayed the fierce animosity Tony was beginning to think he'd never be rid of until either he or John were finally dead.

"But that's….ah, confusing. I mean, how could he know how you'd react if the two of you had never met?"

"He couldn't…" Tony clenched his jaw until it ached, as the memories of the day he and Kristen married came flooding back. "But he wanted her and it wouldn't have mattered who I was…being Stefano's son gave him a weapon to use, but he would have invented another in order to get what he wanted…Kristen, only _when_ he'd finally claimed his prize, and everything between Kristen and I had been utterly destroyed, he chose your mother instead."

Rex apparently had no idea of how to respond to what he'd just heard and silence descended through the room, an oddly companionable one and Tony allowed it to continue as he knew how confusing all this must be for a boy who'd spend most of his life in isolation. Finally, he glanced back from where he stood, resting against the doorframe and their eyes met.

Tony could see that his son hadn't even suspected what was coming and with some difficulty, he managed to contain his bitter smile at the thought that Rex would be more shocked to hear John capable of such behavior. John…that paragon of virtues that all others in this community were measured by. "Difficult to imagine of Belle's father, eh?"

"No," returned Rex a little too quickly but Tony was thankful for the lie anyway. "I…I guess what I find difficult to understand is how my mother could treat you as suspiciously as she does if…" he paused in confusion and then, "doesn't she care what…"

"John did?" Tony finished for him when Rex couldn't bring himself to ask on his own and he watched his son nod mutely. "To be honest, I don't know and…" he sucked in a deep breath, "Your mother has changed over the years since I first met her and to be fair, Stefano was responsible for a great deal of that, for the horrors in her life, so that I'm sure it was inevitable that, despite his faults, John would be the one she trusted, and I would be suspect…always capable of nefarious motives even if I wasn't actually guilty."

"Because of Stefano."

The indignation in his son's voice was impossible to miss. "Yes and you didn't know your grandfather the way your mother did, or the rest of us. There is good reason…"

"To excuse her husband's vile behavior because of _your_ father?"

"I know how this must sound to you Rex, but the situation wasn't that simple and your mother loves John…" Tony paused and smiled sadly, "Love excuses many things."

Rex didn't reply immediately. Instead he gazed back searching Tony's face but not giving away any hint as to what he might be thinking. "That's the part about this mess I don't' know how to accept, that John's problem with you and me and Cassie for that matter, is all because of a man I don't even remember…."

"No Rex," Tony quickly cut in before could get any further, "John is worried about what Stefano planned to do with you and Cassie..._that_ is the reason he fears you and has had such difficulty accepting you as Marlena's children and as for him and I…well, that is another matter entirely and no longer has much to do with Stefano. My father is dead after all."

"Except in everyone's imagination."

Tony quickly turned back to the window to hide the grin that sprang to his lips. The boy had a keen eye when it came to the hypocrisy displayed by the law-abiding citizens of Salem. What he'd give to be able to confide in him but that was out of the question and as much as he hated the situation they were all stuck in, his only real option remained the one he and Shane were pursuing, though knowing what that was going to do to Rex and Cassie made him sick inside. They were going to hate him.

"Dad."

Not trusting himself to face Rex, Tony stayed where he was and said, "Yes?"

"How…do you really feel about my mother?"

Tony rolled his eyes in disgust at the thought of having to discuss this subject _again_. Something else he was sick of frankly. Sick of talking about it, and thoroughly sick of trying to figure out a way to explain what the hell he felt, other than guilt and shame and regret and his son was the last person on a rather long list of those that he had any desire to share his confusion with, though the boy did deserve some kind of answer.

"Worried," he said simply, looking over his shoulder at his son who in turn shook his head in confusion.

"Because of us?"

"Not exactly and I'm not going to say anything else about this subject," he continued, letting his tone become flat and distant. "I'm sorry Rex, but you need to stay out of the antagonism between John and I, and just concentrate on the relationship you and Cassie are developing with your mother. That's what important right now, making up for lost time."

"Why?" came his instant and very suspicious reply.

"Why what?"

"Well, it almost sounds as though you believe there is something or someone out that that could take it all away."

If this was what raising children entailed, this constant deflecting he was having to keep up nearly every moment of every damn day, Tony wasn't all that sure he was turning out to be great parenting material and for the tiniest second, he wondered how many times his own father had dealt with such frustrations. "Staying on your toes is never a bad thing in this family but it wasn't my intention to suggest there is trouble ahead…"

"Except for you and John."

The sigh that slipped out of Tony was agitated and he could feel his temper beginning to fray at the edges once again. "The man has made his intentions obvious, despite a number of overtures on my part…."

"None of which were undertaken for his benefit." Rex didn't even make it a question and Tony's face hurt from keeping the emotions boiling within him from erupting.

"No."

"And if my mother wasn't involved?"

Though Tony could answer this honestly, it felt like a half-truth as he uttered the words, "Marlena wasn't at the bottom of what started this mess and there isn't anything she can do to put an end to it either, and John simply refuses. I honestly don't see that changing unless he were to miraculously retrieve what my father stole from him in the first place…his past."

"And is that what was in that package that came this morning?" Rex guessed shrewdly.

Tired of all the lying he'd been compelled to do, especially with his children, Tony merely stood and stared back at Rex and pleaded with him silently to let this go.

Oddly enough, Rex didn't seem as hurt as when Tony brushed him off the first time, though he also seemed on the verge of pressing the issue but at that moment, came the ringing of the door bell and his expression immediately shifted and mumbling, "excuse me," he hurried off to answer it.

Tony figured he probably ought to be concerned about whatever it was Rex was so eagerly expecting but after their conversation, he was relieved. Let the boy return to his project. He could hear bits and pieces of the short conversation and the door shut and a moment later, Rex stuck his head in the living room.

"I have to finish something upstairs. You don't mind if I run out on breakfast with you I hope."

"Only as long as you don't skip it entirely."

"No, I'll ask Bart to bring me up something." And worried perhaps that Tony would change his mind and begin inquiring into what he was busy working on, he turned and disappeared, presumably upstairs to his room.

The sense Tony got that the boy was lying to him, or keeping his own secrets had explain the bizarre glimmer in his son's dark eyes that reminded him of his ex-wife, though maybe it was just the fact that everything this morning seemed to bring back memories of her…the way she's tossed her head, laughing as her hair spun and danced in the wind, like a halo that caught the light radiating off the lake, riding in front of him…

Tony tried to blot out the sight, but shutting his eyes only brought the memory into focus with more clarity. The vivid quality of it sharpened his senses and he could hear her voice and smell every scent…the crispness of the air mingled with that of his horse, and the vegetation trampled beneath the pounding hooves on their headlong race from the house to the shore of the lake, and as he caught up to her, the aroma of her perfume…one he'd not thought about in years and yet it was as distinctive to him now as the first day she'd opened his gift and put it on and before he was aware of it, tears began rolling down his face.

What the hell had brought this all on so abruptly…surely not the mere sight of the lake and how it shone this morning, uncanny though the imitation appeared to be, or was someone playing with his mind again?

"Damn it," he muttered, tearing his eyes from the window, though seeing the table set for breakfast in the same spot they'd always eaten together didn't help to banish the sight and smell of her from his mind, or the feelings it was generating. There wasn't anywhere he could go in this house to scour them away...every corner of it could produce its own set of images and yet in the months since his return, he'd rarely experienced the feelings crowding in on him now, the way he had after she'd left him and he'd lived in a house literally haunted by her presence. "This is absurd," he told himself and he glared at the empty space around him. It wasn't as though he'd chosen her or literally survived hell for just the chance to spend time in her company as he had with Renee and Anna, or defied his father to do so…but even as the rationalizations piled one on top of another, he scowled at himself in disgust.

Perhaps it was Stefano's idea in the beginning, but Tony had still made a conscious choice and it was hardly Kristen's fault if she'd been used as some pawn in the old man's games. It certainly was not a reason to minimize the feelings they'd shared. No matter what she'd done, he still couldn't find it in his heart to blame her for his own weaknesses. That was something Stefano would do…assign blame to avoid accepting his own failure.

Tony swallowed past the lump in his throat and the irony almost made him laugh. "Is that what you're doing Kristen?" he whispered, walking back to the view that beckoned through the French doors with all it's alluring and bittersweet memories.

The angle of the sun as it bounced off the glassy still water created the most amazing effect along the shoreline where the line of trees stood, bare of any foliage but aglow as though the branches were lit from within, making them iridescent and altogether a vision of enchantment. A breathtaking illusion.

And that was what his life with Kristen had been, an illusion from beginning to end though even illusions left their scars…and provided their measure of painful lessons…

Of course it wasn't so much a matter of being honest with Anna he knew, as it was about being honest with himself and for the first time since he'd returned from the compound he faced his problem in the one way he'd avoided so far…what did the past he and Marlena share together mean _to_ _him…_not for his children, or his wife or brother, or anyone else caught in this situation but simply how did he honestly feel about her?

He'd slept with her.

He'd slept with plenty of women after divorcing Anna but there wasn't a single one of them whose name he remembered.

And none of them were the mother of his children.

Nor were they married to his brother…a man whose purpose in Salem, Tony was beginning to realize was still a total mystery…a man he utterly despised, who'd cheated his way into love with Marlena and Kristen and hurt both of them…

"And who are you kidding," he told himself with a sneer. It wasn't as though he'd done any better, as if he would have married Kristen or stayed loyal to her if he believed for a single instant that any real chance existed for him and Anna…and then Marlena, who at time of their brief fling had been married and so very desperate for any companionship other than his father's. What an utter cad he'd been, not to mention a fool and how the hell was he going to explain to Anna how he felt when he wasn't even willing to face his own answers.

So what did he feel for Marlena? Affection…concern…love…obligation…or was it more a matter of guilt? That was something neither of them had a shortage of in their lives and the connection did exist between them for whatever reason and that seemed as good as any other. He didn't feel about her the way he felt about Anna…the fascination that hadn't faded with time or distance, or the longing that had been his one constant companion over the years, nor did he feel even a hint of the almost unbearable obsession that lay at the heart of what he'd shared with Renee, and yet he couldn't simply pretend the tie was a figment of his imagination, not any longer.

He did give a damn about what she thought, even though it irked him.

Worse yet, he found himself making excuses for the way she blindly accepted her husband's fears and humored his paranoia of everything remotely connected to the DiMeras. Yes, she had plenty of history to back it up, even if some of it was a matter of purposely ignoring the facts that might otherwise complicate her relationship to a man who's own history was nothing more than a gaping black hole, and after the things she'd said and done over the past nine months, he ought to hate her guts now that he knew the truth….only he couldn't.

Perhaps that was a good sign. If this had been Anna, he would have been out for her blood at just the idea that she would wish to hurt him but as he thought about the two women, he suspected it wasn't that simple. Marlena was nothing like Anna. For better or worse, his wife was a woman ruled by her passions, and her uncanny ability to land on her feet. He'd called her a little mercenary once and the description was quite apt, but then he wasn't much better. They understood each other's faults, and appreciated them.

Marlena didn't look at character flaws in the same way, as though they might make a person more intriguing. For all of her own faults, it seemed she'd grown less tolerant over the years because to her, flaws were those pesky things a person was supposed to fix, or at least overcome and Tony knew deep down there was a philosophy that would grate on him. Yes, he was the first to recognize there were mitigating circumstances but hypocrisy was the one sin he had difficulty putting up with and Marlena Evans Black displayed hers like a badge on honor lately, which was all the more reason why he ought to hate her.

So what the hell was wrong with him?

Why, in God's name, did he continue hoping that she was going to change her mind, or make an effort to see beyond her husband's bias…see what she'd always been able to recognize in the past when it came to Stefano and the joy he took in manipulating any and all of the situations he touched, and as the wish materialized, he knew that was a large part of his problem.

He kept hoping this Marlena, the one he'd found on his return would change, become the woman he'd respected once, the one with a brain as well as a heart and soul.

He missed _that_ woman, the one who had been loyal but still sharp enough that she hadn't been blinded by her feelings for any man, Back at the compound all those years ago…after learning that John was not Roman…she not used her feelings as an crutch to whitewash his past. For all of her speeches about the healing power of love and somewhat romantic inclinations, she'd been as much a realist as Alice Horton and no amount of pain had seduced her into believing otherwise…so what happened to her…

Stefano's incessant hounding? Stefano manipulating her life at every turn until she'd simply clung to the one person in her life who was willing to fight the old bastard at her side, accepting the unquestioning loyalty she believed went with it?

That was the obvious explanation.

Unfortunately there was another one, though he didn't really like contemplating the thought of it.

Rolf.

The fact was, Stefano couldn't have erased Marlena's memories without the doctor's assistance and Tony had no illusions left when it came to his family's resident mad scientist. Fear of Stefano hadn't stopped him from threatening to unleash his men to gang rape her, so Tony seriously doubted that messing with her mind would have caused Rolf so much as a moment's worth of guilt or trepidation.

Considering such behavior left him feeling nauseous and to his surprise, Tony realized he still had a hard time trying to fathom the evil his father had unleashed on all of them. First Andre and then Rolf, all in the name of what? Despite the number of months since coming out of his coma, and the things he and Shane had learned, he still didn't have a clear picture, just lose ends that didn't relate to each other, and problems that were dammed inconvenient, like the one he was wrestling with currently.

Course, he couldn't exactly blame what had happened between him and Marlena on his father, not completely anyhow.

As with Kristen, he'd made his own choice.

"Alright," he murmured, focusing on the brilliance of the lake's surface again, "so I know the two of you didn't end up the best of friends, but I don't want to hurt her as I hurt you so many times…" and as the words created tiny patches of steam on the inside of the window, the complete absurdity of the situation registered and his own laughter echoed in the empty room, though it was painful to his ears. He'd come so damn close before only to have the love he'd fought for slip through his fingers and the idea of it happening again, all because of a woman that despised him, who he didn't want or need, or suspect he'd even be able to tolerate was maddening. It was Anna he wanted in his life, not Marlena, but he sensed it wouldn't that easy to untangle the mess that he was at least partially responsible for which had taken place back at the compound in the aftermath of the twins' birth.

He'd made a choice then, right or wrong, and that choice came with history and feelings he couldn't simply ignore just because Marlena didn't remember any of it.

Like his brother, he'd been through this before, having to maneuver between two complicated women, absolutely certain at the time he'd loved one and not the other only to discover eventually what an imbecile he'd been because of his own stubborn pride.

As well, he'd heard plenty of stories about how Kristen changed after his 'death,' but he also had no doubts about his brother's feelings when it came to Marlena, more so now with the memories Marlena had confided to him years ago, so that he was certain no matter what Kirsten would have done, John leaving her was inevitable and he had to wonder how John lived with that fact…or did he excuse it with the memory of Kristen's slippery fall from grace?

John might believe he could do that without consequences but Tony knew better having lived with the memory of Renee's death for twenty years.

The past never truly disappeared, even if a person had no knowledge of it, and if their memories were intact, it wove though the present in ways so subtle, its existence was nearly impossible to detect until it was too late and Tony refused to tread that road again.

Eugene was right; love could not survive without honor.

Somehow he was going to have to explain Marlena to his very jealous and insecure Contessa...try to explain a tie he couldn't simply cut and be done with as though it never happened at all which ought to be quite amusing since this was more a matter of intuition than anything else. Those short couple of months weighed on his conscious. How utterly transformed the thread running through all of their lives would have been if only he'd done things differently…taken her or Sebastian's advice more seriously. Perhaps it wouldn't have changed things between him and his brother but it might have prevented Kristen's death, and his children would have had parents who loved them instead of Rolf…and Marlena…who he'd given his word to…she would have known her children and had the chance to raise them instead of imagining the hell they endured with his father.

The mess may not have been of his design, but the minute he'd walked onto that compound and found her there, _and_ made the choice to stay, the responsibility for her safety became his, and he'd failed, and that was a burden he couldn't live with.

"And damn it, you've been counting on that, haven't you Father," he muttered, more than thoroughly disgusted with himself and the entire situation. He had to find a way out from under Stefano's thumb.

Hopefully, Andre was about to do that for him. Tony had been rolling this scenario around in his mind ever since he'd spoken to Shane and seen the tape his cousin had made in Aremid because Andre was the wild card here, with his own agenda and given Shane's speculations when it came to his cousin's attitude towards John, Tony sensed that he was the one who might unravel Stefano's schemes. He'd been willing back on the island to spill the whole story to both Tony and Marlena before passing out due to loss of blood, so what if he'd found another way?

Pulling out the envelope that had arrived earlier, he carried it and his empty cup back to the table and sat, wondering as he did so what Roman and Bo would think if they were to discover the answer to some of their questions had been right under their noses at the station, locked up with the rest of Raymond Grant's files since the day of lawyer's murder last December. Tony shook his head at the ability of the Salem PD to overlook the obvious, and grinned as he ripped open the package. Inside was a sheath of papers…a copy of the will he'd supposedly written and stashed in the safe deposit box before his death in 1995 and with it, a smaller envelope addressed to his father.

"Yes," and he breathed a sigh. "So, just what did you cook up for Stefano, cousin?"

It wasn't sealed and inside, a single sheet of Tony's own stationary bore a handwritten message.

November 1995

Uncle,

Of all the things I will miss, the sight of your face as you read your destiny…the fate you have brought down upon yourself and the rest of the family is what I crave to see and I must admit to having indulged myself for at last several days, imagining its ultimate conclusion.

Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay-

The worst is death, and death will have his day…

…all but you that is, because you, Stefano…you will survive and suffer as you and your wife's bastard have made me suffer all these years, doing your best to turn my life into a living hell.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping

than you can understand.

Farewell.

Beneath the closing, were two more lines, the name and address of the hospital in Switzerland where Tony had spent the last seven years of his life, languishing in the coma Andre and Rolf has put him in, and leaning back in his chair, he stared at the faded script, marveling how his existence had come down to the words written on a page between two men who hated each other more bitterly than they hated him…a thoroughly self-indulgent and morbid observation, he chided himself. Reading the note again, he did recognize the last quote…Yeats, and beyond the literal interpretation, immediately understood it implied something neither he nor Shane had considered.

His brother had in some way been involved with Colin's fate, to the point that Andre blamed John for his son's death.

Unbidden came the words Andre had spoken on the tape…_He has the potential to be very different from the man we think we know. He is capable of great evil. He is capable of killing without the twinge of conscious…"_

As the words echoed in his head, Tony rose and wandered back over to the French doors where the magnificent view of the lake and the trees lingered. He could still sense her presence. And with it, came frustration and unmitigated rage such as he'd not experienced since that first terrible instant he discovered the truth of what had transpired between John and his wife.


	50. Chapter FortyNine

Donovan Manor, London

Next day

Shane leaned back in his chair wearing a frown. This was Patrick's third email since the original reached him last night saying that Tony was adamant about speaking to him and had refused to take no for an answer. What the hell was so earth shattering that it couldn't wait another day or two until he reached Paris? "Stupid question, governor," he murmured, rubbing the stubble on his jaw line and let his head sink back against the soft leather and shut his eyes. After all, he'd been the one to send the recording of Andre's testimony to Salem, as though he'd needed to add any more fuel to the fire.

The only question now was, which one of them was going to crack first, Tony or John…

Given the last couple months, he'd worried primarily about Tony's state of mind as evidence continued to pile up linking John's past to events that might have robbed Tony of far more than an adulterous wife.

Perhaps that had been an error in judgment on his part.

Tony might know more about John's past than this brother at this point, but the mind was a mysterious instrument, and lack of conscious memories didn't wipe them away completely. Buried or not, they could still influence John's actions and each piece of the puzzle only served to emphasize his reckless behavior in ways Shane could no longer excuse or rationalize. And the reports coming in from Ops only served to multiply Shane's anxieties.

As he'd told Kim, Ops' assignment was to proceed exactly as he'd done so far, help John catch Tony doing anything illegal, hence, the need for Tony's purchase of Echelon, though another purpose for Ops' presence did exist in Shane's mind…not the one Kimberly had accused him of exactly, playing interference, but he'd requested the agency send someone and he'd handpicked the man himself. At the time, Shane told himself it was oversight. John tended to play by his own set of rules and given his past, Shane could sympathize but he wasn't about to be blindsided either, especially after John's actions at the DiMera compound the previous November.

So, John had received the assistance he'd requested in the aftermath of the performance Tony had given at Colin's wake, along with a watchdog, And John knew right away Shane's purpose in sending the man.

"_All of the sudden, you don't trust me?" he'd questioned Shane, within a few hours of his first meeting with Ops. "Tony DiMera slithers back into this town and is doing his damnedest to upset my marriage, and carry on his father's grudge against your children's family, but I'm the one who needs someone up my ass in case I fly off the handle and murder the bastard?"_

"_It was an agency decision, John, not mine personally."_

"_Don't pull that bureaucratic bullshit with me, Donovan. We both know exactly the influence you can exercise, and the kind of pull you have with your boss, not to mention just how badly the ISA wants DiMera. The real question is, why are you fighting this?"_

_Shane had arrived home from a long day and hadn't been in the mood for dealing with John's lopsided view of the situation, or his temper. "Fine, you don't want my help? The agency is always short of men and I have no doubt we can find a use for Ops in some other area of the world where there are actual terrorists who pose a threat to public safety." And without waiting for a reply, he'd hung up._

Of course John hadn't sent Ops back or called Shane's superior to complain. Instead, he'd taken advantage of the resources at his fingertips in ways meant to deliberately irritate Ops, as John figured the way to get around his problem was to give the younger agent all the grunt work. But Ops was creative too, and observant. His reports to Shane were right on the money when it came to John's fears and how they were motivating him, so when the agent confided in Shane just a few weeks or so after John and Marlena's return from the compound that John slipped a bug into his wife's purse, it set off an alarm in Shane's head.

He'd known John to manipulate a situation in order to get what he wanted, but there'd always been limits he stuck to, most notably when it came to Marlena, and Shane found such a decision unfathomable…_John was spying on her. _That smacked of a man trying to catch his wife in the act of something provocative instead of doing all in his power to keep her safe.

And as if to confirm his fears, right on the heels of this news from Ops, came his conversation with Tony. Once his partner shared the information he'd learned from Ellie Torricelli's brother, Shane had to face the unpleasant implications. What if Torricelli was right? What if John had followed Ellie to Paris all the years ago and discovered her and Tony together? No matter how John tried to convince himself that he trusted Marlena, his subconscious might be affecting his decisions in ways even he wasn't aware of or able to explain and it was clear she wasn't too thrilled with the reasoning he'd come up with thus far. In fact, she'd taken matters into her own hands and gone to Roman, asking for a bug sweeper.

If things kept up this way in the Black household, John was going to lose it and either do or say something that would in turn, make Tony react. Badly was Shane's guess.

Hoping to alleviate the problem to some degree, Shane concocted a scenario so that Marlena would find out about her husband's plans and the fact he'd come back to the ISA and why. He couldn't be certain of it improving their relationship. Getting it out in the open would however make them talk about it, and Tony, and just how the hell they were going to come to terms with the reality of the twins in a way that didn't necessarily include lies and finger pointing, and if it didn't work, at least Shane could tell himself he'd not left Marlena completely in the dark.

He detested not being able to tell her everything almost as much as he hated lying to Kimberly but whenever the temptation took hold of him, the image of her face and the heartbreak he'd witnessed the year they'd first gotten to know each other would quickly change his mind. If he was forced to ruin her husband's reputation in her eyes, he needed solid, irrefutable evidence.

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, he checked his watch again. It was still rather early in Salem, but Shane's instincts told him Tony would already be up and waiting, pacing the floor like some caged animal or more likely, taking out his frustrations on Bart.

With a sigh, he punched in the number on his speed dial.

"Well, it's about bloody time."

Though he'd been expecting this sort of welcome, Shane snorted. "Remind me when you and Anna go on vacation that I need to invent some dire emergency to interrupt at the most inconvenient moment."

"The way things are going, I very much doubt such an opportunity will arise."

Shane didn't like the sound of that, or the fact that it was uttered without any semblance of humor whatsoever. "Okay. You've had the recording for a week now so is there something John and I missed?"

"Andre wrote a will," Tony informed him.

"Yes, I know."

"And did you subpoena a copy?"

"Of course we did and read the damn thing from cover to cover," said Shane, trying to keep his irritation under control. "There was nothing."

"Apparently yours was missing the key ingredient."

Shane had rather his fill lately of people accusing him of shoddy work or ulterior motives and had to pause to control his anger. "I don't see how since the copy we acquired was the original," he explained in a stiff voice, "and still sealed."

But Tony wasn't impressed. "Andre was probably counting on that, considering he planned in advance there would be a trial and fabricated the copy he wanted you or the court to see."

"Meaning the actual will was kept secret? But that would have called its validity into question, causing any number of legal difficulties for the executor."

"The last thing Andre or any other DiMera would want is for the agency to get an accurate picture of the family's holdings and how they are structured…what they are being used for, legally or otherwise."

"Okay," said Shane, not sure he agreed completely since Andre's purpose in Aremid seemed to aimed at Stefano as much as John, giving him plenty of incentive to betray his uncle's operation to the ISA, though it was possible he'd had more confidence in surviving than either Shane or Tony has assumed up to this point, and dreamed all along of taking over the business himself, or perhaps, leaving it intact for Colin, and given the last two scenarios, a second will would not only be likely, but a document Shane wanted to see firsthand. "Where did your copy come from?"

"Raymond Grant's sequestered files," said Tony, with an annoying but understandable hint of amusement in his tone.

"I see. Pinched it from the Salem Police Department. How exceedingly efficient, not to mention risky after the lengths we've gone to keeping Bo and Roman in the dark."

"Nice to see someone still respects the Brady brothers' rather questionable law enforcement capabilities."

Shane ignored Tony's sarcasm. "And?" he prompted, trying to get the conversation back on track.

"He left Stefano a personal message, a bit cryptic but one that definitely laid out his intentions where the family was concerned," and without waiting for Shane's comment, proceeded to read him Andre's note from beginning to end.

Like Tony, Shane recognized the last quote from Yeats immediately and the implication Andre was making. Was it possible? Since his trip to Haiti and his conversations with Eugene, he'd done his share of speculating as to Stefano's motives where Roman was concerned and his reason for choosing John as the one to replace his old nemesis, though up to now, Shane's questions had centered around John's possible link to Roman. What if they'd all been paying attention to the wrong person? What if the link was to Roman's father instead of Roman himself and worse, what if the event tying Shawn Sr. and John to each other went beyond the trumped up death of Colin Murphy…Colin who was the same age as Tony's dead twins would have been if they'd survived, all three of whom had died in precisely the same manner, within months of each other, or….

"Shane?"

"Ah yes, I'm here."

"And?"

"You have, I must assume, noticed that Eleanor Torricelli's death, most notably the date of the funeral we have now, falls between Colin's birth and when he turned three months old."

"Yes," came the terse reply and then silence.

"Quite a coincidence…"

"Coincidence my ass. There is no such thing as accidents in my family and as for luck…" but he didn't finish whatever he meant to say.

"So you suspect your father could have fabricated the entire story as to how and where Eleanor died?"

"If he had something to hide, I believe he would have done it without a second thought, and," Tony said in a tight voice, "_so_ do you."

"Damn," muttered Shane, "that's what I was afraid you were going to say."

Tony didn't comment and the silence that seeped through the line was anything but comfortable, each of them wary of pointing out the nature of the beast that had taken up residence all of the sudden.

"It is possible we're jumping to conclusions here."

"Possible yes, but even you can't truly convince yourself of that after Shawn's behavior towards me since I came back to Salem," Tony said. "Shawn's own words to Colin all but confirm that we're on the right tract here. I mean, what is guaranteed to destroy both families if not the murder, or at least the death of a mother and her two completely helpless children?"

"No," choked out Shane, "not the Shawn Brady I know…."

"Everyone has their secrets, even Shawn Brady and we already know for a fact that he faked his nephew's death, and kept it secret all these years, not to mention the bombshell that is Colin's paternity..."

"Yes, to protect his family, _especially_ Colin."

Tony's exaggerated sigh whispered softly but the fact its volume barely registered did nothing to lesson its impact, or the keen edge of the sarcasm that followed.

"If it isn't my father's favorite cliché."

Shane knew he had that one coming but still he could feel his frustration level beginning to reach its limits. "You've known Shawn Brady even longer than I have. Are you telling me you actually think him capable of the cold blooded murder of children?"

"No…"

Silence took over as Tony's voice trailed off and though Shane had an idea what he was going to hear, he decided to ask anyway. "But?"

Tony took his time replying to Shane's inquiry, choosing his words more carefully now. "I'll grant you that this all seems to have all started as a result of Shawn's desire to provide Colin with a better life, but once the cycle of violence ignites, control is an illusion that can easily swallow up innocent people whose only fault is being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Which your father would not consider accidental."

Another short pause, and then, "No…if those innocent parties were his grandchildren, he would not."

"And John?"

"What about him," Tony asked, his tone irritated and sounding rather defensive all of the sudden.

"If Shawn's complicity was accidental, why couldn't John be just as innocent of any premeditated or criminal intent?"

"No."

There was a finality behind that single word that said everything Shane needed to know about Tony's feelings on the matter. He was convinced John's role in the death of Ellie and their children was anything but accidental."

"And if you're wrong?"

"I'm not," came his partner's stubborn reply.

"What, based on your cousin's word, a man who hates you even more than your brother and has tried to kill you on how many occasions?"

"It's not a matter of what Andre has said and you already know that as well as I do. There's Stefano's behavior and his statements to me, _and_ Ellie's brother, who certainly has no reason to lie about the past."

"That you know of."

"Alright, you think it impossible for John to have allowed his emotions to take control of him?"

"It didn't say it was impossible, I…" but at the last second, Shane stopped himself before he allowed his temper to lead them both down the path to an argument that would solve nothing and possibly create a rift they couldn't afford at the moment. "I just think you're jumping to conclusions based on something other than the facts."

"Call it what you like," said Tony in a tone growing more belligerent by the second. "I'm still the one who's had to deal with his behavior over the last several months and my intuition says that John's past is affecting his behavior, and not merely towards me, but Marlena and worse, the twins."

"Because he feels they're a threat, but that doesn't…"

"So why is he suddenly behaving as though he'll do anything in his power to help them, especially when it provides him the opportunity to make me look like an complete ass?"

"Well, you didn't expect him to make this easy, did you?" And barely an instant later, he heard what sounded like glass shattering against a wall and he waited for Tony to explode, or hang up on him. Neither of those two things happened. In fact, for several minutes, absolutely nothing happened, and there was silence between them that soon became awkward and with a sigh, Shane tried again, using a little more tact this time. "I've already told you that I suspect John's actions to some degree were intentional but for heaven's sake he was eighteen years old and shoved into the middle of an impossible situation by your father."

"We don't know that the marriage to Ellie was forced on him."

"No, but he would have felt obligated to do as Stefano asked of him and marry the girl."

Grudgingly, Tony agreed.

"He was manipulated, just as you were and I seem to remember that you didn't react all that well in a similar situation."

"That doesn't mean I took it out on those who were manipulated along with me."

"You didn't try and kill Andre?" countered Shane.

"Andre was NOT manipulated or used. He was going to be rewarded with my life for following through and doing Stefano's dirty work and that included murdering me."

"Okay…do you believe John did likewise?"

Tony didn't jump in with an answer right away, which allowed Shane to breathe a little easier. "Based on Stefano's behavior towards the Bradys, and towards John, I suspect that he holds John to be directly responsible for whatever took place," said Tony finally. "As far as Shawn is concerned, Stefano has gone after the man's children to make him pay for the past…an eye for an eye, which is Father's typical response but the way he handled John was altogether different. It was personal. He didn't go after his family or his children or even his wife simply as a way to hurt the man since going after Marlena was never truly about John as far as Stefano was concerned."

Though he didn't like the end result of Tony's logic, Shane could see his point and there was a certain pattern to Stefano's behavior when it came to revenge. He did enjoy creating a scenario to fit the crime. There was however another angle to this that Shane felt Tony was ignoring. "Stefano could have treated John differently because he considered John's betrayal to be personal. The Bradys were strangers but John…he was a child your father raised, lavished his attention on, and trusted. Stefano was willing for him to marry Ellie and raise her children, his own grandchildren."

"And if he was responsible for their deaths, even accidentally, my father would have meted out his retaliation based on the trust he'd offered, and which he felt John betrayed?"

"Yes."

Again Tony stopped to consider and then, "I see what you're saying, but there is one small detail missing…in order to cover up the true circumstances of Ellie's death, if as we suspect it all happened in Ireland instead of the coast of Spain, Stefano would have already been aware of the details…of anything accidental on John's part that led to the explosion before the funeral and yet, according Lorenzo Torricelli, Stefano made it clear he believed John blameless in the entire affair, and even after the funeral, their relationship remained unaltered. It was John who chose to leave. If for even a moment, Stefano knew of a reason to hold John responsible, my brother would have been trapped in Tuscany. Permanently. Instead he fled to the US and entered a seminary."

Shane felt a migraine coming on and pulling himself up out of his chair, wandered over to a window and a view of the gardens just in time to see Andrew and Kimberly appear at the far end in the midst of a ride it seemed. Both of their horses were drinking from a stream as mother and son chatted. She had yet to accept the invitation of a ride from Shane since their arrival and he had to suppress the pang of jealousy that watching the scene aroused. Damn this job. "Alright, let's say the explosion which killed Ellie took place in Ireland and was somehow precipitated by whatever scheme Shawn cooked up to fake Colin's death, and that John was there. Who else?"

The question seemed to take Tony unawares and he hesitating before answering, "Andre? He had to have been in Ireland within that year busy making the mischief in the first place and I can't imagine anyone else pushing to take Colin away, or handling the situation so badly that Shawn or the rest of the Bradys would feel threatened enough to react with such violence."

"How about you?"

"Me."

"Yes you," snapped Shane impatiently when Tony acted surprised. "Didn't Torricelli tell you that Ellie purposely sought you out in Paris to tell you the truth only a matter of days before her death?"

"I suppose but what reason would explain any of us, including me, or Ellie and John ending up in Ireland?"

"Well, what was Andre doing there?"

"You're asking me?" laughed Tony. "I don't even remember Ellie coming to Paris, let alone anything else going on at the time."

"Great. I feel like we're talking in circles."

More frustrated silence passed between them and then Tony collected himself. "There are other pieces to the puzzle…the rest of Andre's note to Stefano for instance, and the fact he and Stefano, and Lorenzo Torricelli have all linked John to my grandfather's St. Christopher medal that was lost, conveniently in Ireland."

"The one with the Latin inscription that John recited at Ellie's funeral?"

Tony didn't bother answering Shane's question but came up with a more disturbing one of his own. "What if the medal itself is no longer missing?" He paused, waiting for a response that didn't come immediately and added, "That could have been why Stefano reacted as he did at the funeral."

"But that would mean…"

"Someone in the family, perhaps even John, was privy to who murdered my grandparents."


	51. Chapter Fifty

Time: same day

Place: Donavan Manor, England

Shane swore under his breath and shut his eyes against the stream of hazy sunlight bursting through the glass suddenly. "I don't see how that fits into the rest of this mess."

"Neither do I…_yet_," Tony added almost on second thought, "but it does. It must. There is no other way to explain Celeste's behavior at Maison Blanche. What could have led her to the conclusion that the medal was the link connecting Stefano to John, or that supplying John with that particular reminder to his past was the key to his freedom?"

"Come on, Tony. We know there's a connection but that doesn't mean Celeste did. What she _did_ know was that John was a priest, and offering him the medal might have been an innocent gesture...."

"But she didn't simply provide him with the medal, isn't that correct? You told me that she gave him a written copy of the verse as well, the one engraved on the original medal and there is only one way she could have known about it."

Shane sighed. "From your father."

"Yes, though I very much doubt it something he would have confided in her."

And his observation gave Shane a hint of where this was going. "So you think she's seen the original."

"Most likely."

Tugging his fingers through the unruly mop of hair that daily exhibited new streaks of gray, Shane did his best to concentrate. Once his ordeal at Maison Blanche ended, John had confided all the details he could recall, including Celeste's words to him regarding the medal…_all the help you will ever need_, she'd said as she pressed it and the scrap of paper into his hand. John had been obstinate on the subject too, convinced both items could unlock his memory. Except that neither supplied any clues as time progressed. Eventually, it was all forgotten by both men until Tony's meeting with Lorenzo Torricelli brought the subject to light again in a way that suggested John's instincts had been correct and Shane could feel his heart rate speed up as at least one piece of the puzzle slipped into place. "I think you could be right," he told Tony. "In fact, what if that is the answer to all of our questions?"

"How?"

"The medal itself, the original one if it still exists, what if it is a key…one that will unravel the mystery of John's past?"

"You mean his memory."

"Yes," replied Shane emphatically and he could tell he had Tony's attention now.

"Sounds like Father alright."

"We need to find that medal, so if you have any ideas…"

Silence descended and at first Shane thought Tony was busy considering how to tell him that stealing the damn thing away from Stefano would probably be suicide but when the moments wore on, he realized it was something else and finally tired of waiting, he was blunt. "What's the problem?"

"Perhaps Stefano isn't in possession of it any longer," Tony pointed out and the excitement Shane had experienced for all of a few moments soured.

Andre. He'd certainly been thorough when it came to all the other loose ends pertaining to the family and the chances of him skipping this one were pretty slim since he blamed John for the loss of his son. "I take it you've had no luck in locating your cousin or Rolf."

This time, Tony's brief silence was apparently designed to rein in his irritation, which didn't completely work. "No," he bit out, frustrated and then with a sigh, "And I'll admit, I'm worried. Once I viewed the recording and even more so since reading his note to Stefano yesterday. I…well, things I've accepted up to this point as a necessary evil, particularly when it comes to the twins' interaction with John, are beginning to take on an unpleasant…" his voice trailed off, not that Shane needed him to spell it out his fears.

Rolf had been in charge of whatever kind of programming had been done to the twins and he was loyal to a man whose ideas of revenge made Stefano appear civilized by comparison. If Andre hated John enough to frame him for murder, he'd not think twice about using Tony's children to wreck his vengeance. "Is this your intuition or has there been an incident?"

"Cassie was arrested a few days ago…"

"Arrested…for what?" asked Shane, doing his best to swallow his sudden urge to laugh, "or do I even want to know?"

"According to her mother, rather typical teenage behavior that was a matter of seeing how far she could push our limits."

"Lucky you."

"Shane," came Tony's exceedingly irritated warning and Shane had to bite his lip to control himself.

"Yes, well I don't seen how that translates into…"

"She didn't call me to come get her at the police station, or her mother, or the person she trusts more than either of us put together, which would be Rex. No, she called John."

"Which I'm sure pissed you off to no end."

"That," snapped Tony, "is not the point and I'm not in the mood to put up with your cavalier attitude about this or listen to a lecture about child psychology and how Cassie was afraid to face either of her parents because she was feeling guilty, thank you. I had to put up with that from Marlena. And the fact is you and I both know where the twins have spent the majority of their lives and who was there all that time manipulating their subconscious, so don't tell me I'm imagining this."

There was a trace of hysteria buried in Tony's display of temper that immediately focused Shane's attention. Tony losing control at this point would be disastrous. Even if he was being paranoid about John, Tony had every reason to react in such a manner given the past and everything they'd dug up so far and if he were in a similar predicament, Shane knew he'd be emotional too, and frantic, willing to do nearly anything to keep his family safe. "Does that mean you'll reconsider my offer and at least think about hiding the twins away for their own safety?"

"I can't do that," Tony replied, even more irritated now.

"Why not?"

"Shane…they are finally…_finally _establishing a relationship with their mother, a chance they would have had years ago if it wasn't for my own pride and stupidity…the fact I screwed up whatever opportunity they might have had..."

"Isn't it a little late for guilt, Tony?"

The chuckle that slipped through the line was both sarcastic and painful. "No, it seems it's never too late for that, and besides this isn't simply about guilt, mine or anyone else's. I was so bloody sure that I was right. Sure, I could solve this mess playing the game by my father's rules instead of trusting in the simple fact that a parent will go to any lengths to protect her children."

"I'm the last one to argue that fact, but even if you'd handled things differently, there is no guarantee the twins would be any better off, or grown up in Salem."

Tony didn't respond to this awkward truth right away but Shane knew it was useless all the same, and he didn't really have any desire to change Tony's mind. For one thing, he wasn't positive he ought to. He'd experienced first hand the power of the human heart, even in situations he'd believed at the time were beyond hopeless but he understood as well, how very difficult it was to put one's trust in something so intangible and for Tony of all people. Not impossible, but quite unexpected.

"If this was only about me or Marlena or Anna…I admit, I'd probably fall back on old habits," Tony said after a brief hesitation, sorting out a way to explain his decision. "I was willing to risk nearly anything, even live with murdering the man who raised me to assure their survival once…until I realized the kind of life I'd sentenced them to and by then it was too late. And yes, it's my responsibility to keep them safe, but they deserve something more…existence just isn't enough, especially if the price for it means locking them up again. That, I will not tolerate."

Shane's eyes drifted back outside to where his own son sat atop the bay, talking in his typically animated fashion to Kimberly, probably about school and his friends, or the family back in Salem and in that moment, Shane tried to imagine being in Tony's shoes. Would he lock up his own children? Could he?

NO.

The answer popped up so quickly, it was impossible to deny the truth of it, or rationalize with himself that this wasn't about his children, or about Cassie and Rex either. It just didn't work. Damn, he was getting soft in his old age. If he'd truly become the heartless workaholic that Kimberly liked to suggest when she got angry with him, he'd take matters into his own hands and simply have the twins whisked to a safer location. It would prudent, for everyone involved at this stage of the game…and would, he feared, unravel the trust he and Tony had spent months building. Ruin their progress towards a solution. "And if they continue to seek out John's attention?"

"I'll deal with it."

Not the reply Shane wanted to hear. "_That_ is precisely what Andre is hoping for and no matter how you feel about your brother right now, we're finally on the verge of uncovering real answers to the past and I think we both know at this point they're not coming out of Stefano or Andre willingly."

"We're not going to get them from John either," came the reply, accompanied by a burst of laughter that was anything but amused. "He'd happily live the rest of his life ignorant of a past that must have been appalling, not to mention, he's got what he wants. And once he finds out those missing memories include me, I guarantee, he'll absolutely refuse."

"Good lord Tony, he's not you," said Shane thoughtlessly as he continued gazing out of the window at his wife and son, who's conversation seemed to have taken a more serious turn and he didn't notice Tony's silence at the comment.

"However you meant that, you're right. I may be many things, but even I'd think twice before seducing another man's wife in his own bloody house no less," sneered his partner, "and then have the nerve to lie about it for months, all the while he was busy playing protector to as many women in town as he could delude into believing I was the devil incarnate." His velvety accent had a chilling edge to it now that Shane couldn't possibly mistake. "No, John isn't _like_ me and no matter what the hell my relatives are up to, that man isn't going to be around long enough to poison my children as he did my wife." And as the last word shot through the receiver, the line went dead.

"Damn YOU," snarled Shane, who took the phone and slammed it into the wall. "God, what the fuck am I doing?" he thought squeezing his eyes shut to block out all the thoughts crowding in on him including any number of disastrous finales he'd conjured up over the nine months since he'd gotten involved in this charade…the misgivings about Tony and John and what they'd do to each other if given half the chance and here it was staring him in the face suddenly. Not a distant possibility but…"get a grip Donavan," he told himself and with a determined resolve, took several deep breaths to clear his head.

The phone still had power, surprisingly. If that was a sign of how his luck was running, he'd take it and quickly pulled up the number and prayed for someone to answer…someone who wasn't Colin."

"Shane?" It was Eugene's voice on the other end and Shane was so relieved, he sank into the chair at his desk.

"Hi Gene," and with another deep breath, "I need a favor…"


	52. Chapter FiftyOne

England

Same Day

Other than her son's initial burst of exuberance, it was quiet at the narrow stream where Kimberly and Andrew sat, each astride a handsome bay and enjoying a short respite from their exercise. Kim surveyed the garden. The countryside still wore its dreary brown and grayish hues, and here it was weeks after the first day of spring. None of the trees carried the barest hint of green along their crooked branches and the wind chilled her through the heavy riding clothes she wore.

Her trip thus far hadn't provided a whole lot more warmth than the weather.

She and Shane treated each other with a civility that was painful. Both feared to say wrong thing that might send the disagreements between them flaring into the open…in front of their children.

And so they did their best to pretend. Unfortunately, Andrew wasn't a child any longer and wasn't fooled so easily. Neither was Jeannie for that matter, but England was practically a new experience for her after more than five-year absence. Thankfully she appeared to be wrapped up in reacquainting herself with everything at once. There was the countryside, and the manor itself, and of course, Peachy. In stark contrast to Jeannie's preoccupation, Andrew had scheduled his time to spend entirely in the company of his parents. Kimberly feared the decision had been something of a disappointment to her son.

He wasn't exactly trying to hide his disappointment either. That wouldn't have been Andrew's way. Despite the physical resemblance he bore to Shane, her son's temperament was so very different…responsible yes, but he'd inherited his fair share of the family stubbornness; both on the Donovan side as well as from the Bradys, and a hint of Drew's foolhardy mischievous nature. All in all, his personality reminded her of Bo more often than not. He could be brash and sly all the same time as he was trying to be now, believing he was fooling her with his talk of life at Cambridge and his studies and friends…his last trip to London where he'd indulged in a night at Covent Gardens, and how strange it felt going on his own.

"What did you see," she asked, with a suspicion of where this was headed already.

"An outlandish production of Figaro," he told her. "You should have seen the sets, they were garish…like a vaudeville."

She smiled but didn't bite. The first opera they'd treated him to, on a family outing to Vienna one winter had been Mozart, and she knew he was fishing for way to discuss the past.

"Jeannie would have loved it probably, the way she goes on about whatever brainless tart Philip has just hired…"

"Which she does," Kim reminded him, "because she knows how it irritates you. It has little to do with Philip."

"Then why does she still go to visit him?"

"Well, she can't fly over here as often as she'd like to see her father and he d…isn't able to make it out to LA all that often." She stumbled trying to get the last part of the sentence out and then to cover, quickly pointed out, "Philip on the other hand, is there and very fond of both of you."

For all their differences in attitude, Andrew as very protective of his father and he'd never taken a shine to Philip as Jeannie had. It created friction during his visits but there was a part of Kim that couldn't help but agree with his assessment. Philip was at best, a pale imitation.

That being the case, Andrew's response to her observations didn't surprise her. He rolled his eyes and immediately asked a question Kimberly probably should have been expecting.

"So what's up with you and Dad?"

"Up?"

"Yes you know…the tension the two of you drag around the house like a couple of rusty suits of armor."

Kim swallowed uncomfortably. "That obvious, are we?"

"Quite."

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry. We just seem to struggling, and I hoped…"

"This trip would solve the problem?"

She turned her head away. The idea of lying to him bothered her as much as having to explain what was really going on.

"Mom?"

"Andrew, there's really nothing for me to say."

He nodded. He'd already asked his father and been given the brush off…told that Kimberly had made it abundantly clear no chance existed for a reconciliation and it was time for Shane to get on with his own life. The entire conversation was a line of bull in Andrew's opinion but his father had been adamant. Any effort on Andrew's part to revisit the subject had met with failure and a number of heated rows.

Not that Andrew planned on the giving up.

The way they felt about each other was so blatantly obvious even his friends commented after weekend visits.

"Dad says he stopped visiting Los Angeles as often because you gave him the cold shoulder, and yet here you are, and not just in the country, but vacationing at the manor instead of any of the numerous bed and breakfast establishments in the vicinity."

Kimberly remained silent. She'd hoped the fact she brought Jeannie along would have explained her decision to stay in Donovan Manor.

"If I didn't know better," he continued, "I'd think you were worried about him."

"Worried."

Andrew glanced at her for a second and knew he was on the right tract. She'd tensed up instinctively at his suggestion. "Just because I'm living out here, away from the family doesn't mean I'm ignorant of the situation back home," he pointed out, "or what's been happening with Grandpa Shawn."

And Kimberly sighed. Home.

For Andrew, that had always remained Salem no matter how many years had passed or far apart it was from the world he inhabited now. Always the memories persisted, distant but tinged with nostalgia for a time and place when he'd experienced the joys of a real family. One he still missed desperately.

"I don't know who you've been talking to, your uncles or cousins, but your grandfather has made an excellent recovery and is doing just fine," said Kimberly.

"And the man responsible for the stress he's experiencing is still walking around, free as a bird."

"Allegedly responsible."

"Mom."

If the subject wasn't so painful, she might have been amused at his ability to sound the way he used to, back when the disagreement at hand was so much simpler, like him being grounded or the times he couldn't use the car on a weekend. "If your uncles had a shred of proof," she said patiently, "the man they swear is to blame would be locked up as we speak."

Andrew didn't have a comeback for this statement quite so quickly. It took nearly a minute and then, "So, are you telling me you didn't come here to get that proof?"

"I came out here to see you."

For an instant, he almost looked convinced at the sincerity in her tone. "Thank you. And don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed every minute of your visit so far," he lied almost as convincingly as she had, "but a couple months ago you were upset too, every bit as much as Uncle Roman and Uncle Bo…"

"Andrew, stop this now _please_."

"Why? What are you afraid of Mom?"

"I'm not afraid."

The look he shot her made it obvious he already knew the source of her discomfort, or at least suspected. Still she was determined not to allow him to become involved. It was bad enough Shane had gotten himself entangled in whatever the hell the DiMeras were up to this time and she'd not have her children in the line of fire. Merely the idea of it terrified her.

"Whatever your father's problems, he can deal with them," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Even if he's involved in something that he's hiding from the agency?"

Kimberly couldn't disguise her shock at hearing her own fears repeated aloud, and coming from her son. Where on earth had he come up with such an idea in the first place? Not his father. Kimberly knew Shane would never slip up to the extent that Andrew would be suspicious this way. Besides, he spent so little time with his either of them lately, except on holidays, so it had to be speculation, probably from one of his numerous cousins, some of whom were prone to dramatics after everything that had taken place in Salem recently.

"Your father is…"

"He didn't have an ISA assignment last New Years," he interrupted her.

"Pardon?"

"You remember, after he missed joining us at Christmas because of the airport in Paris closing, he said he'd make it for New Years instead, only he didn't."

"Because there was an emergency."

"No, there wasn't."

She shook her head. "What are you talking about? His assistant, ah...Patrick called...."

"And explain to us that Dad needed to get to Washington."

"That's right."

"But that was only the first stop, or probably an outright lie so no one would discover his true destination."

"Andrew…."

"He went to Montreal."

Kim sighed, doing her best to rein in the frustration that was growing. "I don't see how that matters, it could have been Istanbul…"

"Tony DiMera was in Montreal last New Years."

Her breath caught in her throat. "How do you know that?"

"So far as I know, DiMera made no secret of it. In fact he used the trip as his alibi when Uncle Roman questioned him about Colin's murder."

"No, not Tony…your father. What makes you think he went to Montreal?" Kimberly felt her heart pounding as she waited for an answer.

Andrew looked down. "It was sort of a slip…she didn't have any clue at the time what he was up to."

"Alright," she said slowly, after a moment's pause. "I want you to explain to me exactly what is going on. _Who_ is she?"

He bit his lip uncomfortably. "Peachy."

"No."

"Mom, she simply inquired how we enjoyed our holiday with Dad. She had no idea he'd cancelled the trip to LA, either at Christmas or New Years or subsequently been called away to deal with some crisis. She…well, she reacted in such an odd manner, and to top it off, wanted to know exactly when he left and returned."

"She didn't know?"

Andrew shook his head emphatically.

Kimberly tried to beat back the unease she was suddenly feeling. "That's not necessarily so very odd my dear. She is retired after all and…"

"But Dad confides in her, even more so now that…"

His voice drifted into silence, uncomfortable with bringing up their estrangement again and knowing how it pained him, only made the situation that much worse for Kimberly, and then to hear that Shane had shut out even his old friend was frankly unnerving but all she said was, "Apparently he doesn't confide in her as he used to."

Andrew didn't comment on this observation, and Kim realized he was holding back more as he twisted the reigns in his hands nervously, pulling back on them and quickly she reached over and laid one of her own on top of his.

"Tell me," she said.

He sucked in a deep breath and consciously let go and stretched his fingers before he buried them in the bay's mane, stroking the horse. "There was a comment, something like she'd known he was planning this but it was obvious that the timing was unexpected."

"Planned it."

Andrew refused to look at her but he nodded.

_There had to be an explanation for this, a logical one that would make her feel a complete fool for doubting him but…_

"Are you saying he planned it with her help?"

"I got that impression, yeah."

Kimberly's chest hurt and she shivered.

"Mom?"

Distantly she could hear the concern in her son's voice but didn't touch her or bring her warmth. "You still haven't told me how you learned he went to Montreal."

"Oh."

Shifting in the saddle, Andrew was now even more distinctly uncomfortable, especially when he met the steely gaze his mother aimed at him. "I have this friend who can manipulate computer programs." He shrugged with a guilty and sheepish grin. "She is quite talented."

Kim's eyes narrowed at the implication he was making. "You didn't…wouldn't do such a thing."

"Look, I was worried too and told myself he was onto something that would help Uncle Bo and Roman nail DiMera and…" His grin vanished, but he faced Kim squarely now. "I still haven't a clue of what he's up to, except that whatever it is, the agency is in the dark along with the rest of us."

Kimberly shook her head in despair. "All of which you discovered by sneaking around and reading your father's private correspondence."

"Not exactly. Danielle is great at hacking into any mainframe in existence but not breaking codes, so the only thing we were able to read was the destination on the e-ticket, the one he purchased using a personal credit card…not his ISA expense account. And the ticket included his departure and arrival times. According to those, he was already in the city before Tony got to Montreal and didn't leave until Tony returned to Salem."


	53. Chapter FiftyTwo

Salem

Later that night

"Tony?"

The voice on the other end of the line was unmistakably Eugene Bradford's. Slowly, Tony set his glass of scotch on the desk and sat down, cursing Shane under his breath. "Gene…what a charming…surprise."

"Top of the evening to you too...."

But Tony, already in a foul mood, cut him off. "I'm not up for one of your lectures Gene, about John, Marlena, or any other unsuspecting soul about to learn they're involved in this fiasco."

"Now that you mention it, Shane did say you might not be in the best frame of mind this evening."

"Well, then if that was why you called, feel free to continue on with whatever the hell it was you were doing before Donovan put you up to this."

"Tony, _don't_ hang up on me."

Heaving a sigh, he picked up the glass and finished the remainder of the liquid in one impatient swallow. "Do you know what I had the pleasure of doing today cousin?"

"And don't call me that," snapped Eugene. "You have a way of saying it that makes me feel like Andre."

"Oh, my most humble apologies," Tony returned with a snide chuckle.

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Some…though not as much as I'm going to be in a little while, I can promise you that."

"What happened?"

Tony's laughter became bitter. "Brother dearest _happened_."

On the other end of the line in Haiti, Gene sat forward in his lounge chair and eyed the breathtaking sunset in front of him with a grimace. It was difficult for him not to sympathize with Tony's predicament. No matter how much patience the Count had exercised in the last year, John continued to hammer away, knowing that Tony would lose his temper eventually and explode. As far as Eugene was concerned it was no more than John deserved.

The problem was, it wouldn't solve anything, and with Tony's luck, he'd be the one who end up paying for it, not John. "What's he done now?"

"He found out about Echelon," came Tony's irritated reply.

"Found out…what, that you bought it?"

"And couldn't wait," Tony continued, in a furious tone, along with the sound of a glass slamming down on a table top, "to inform Marlena I'm running a whorehouse. And in public no less."

"Oh lord," Gene muttered, rolling his eyes at the scene he could envision without too much difficulty. "I'm sorry Tony…but," he grit his teeth knowing his observation would probably set his cousin off further, "you knew this was coming. Eventually."

Tony's only reply to this distasteful reality was silence.

Damn, thought Gene, no wonder Shane had called him in such a state.

"Tony…"

"I don't want to hear it," came a growl emanating through the receiver. "Not one damn word about how I need to see his side of things or how he doesn't realize what is going on here."

"Maybe the time has come to tell him."

"Oh, now that_ is_ brilliant. Did you by any chance suggest it to Donovan?" Tony's inquiry was smooth but extremely sarcastic.

"No," replied Gene, wanting to laugh, if only to relieve the tension, but there was nothing Tony was finding the least bit humorous in this situation, or Shane either, for the very reason Tony voiced almost immediately.

"I'm sure he'll be thrilled, considering what the hell that will do to any prospect he could have with his ex-wife."

"Okay, then let me talk to Marlena."

More silence. In fact, Eugene got the impression he'd shocked Tony so that he had no idea of what to say.

"Marlena." Tony repeated her name after nearly a minute went by, and his tone had changed…softened thought the sarcasm was still apparent. "And say what exactly?"

Gene hesitated. The suggestion had been instinct more than anything he'd thought out carefully and though Tony trusted his vibes more than most people, things weren't as simple as they'd been a few months ago. He'd gotten involved in this mess now. He'd taken Colin in, and he was responsible for keeping him safe, and for keeping him hidden, so he couldn't simply call her up and start questioning her, though she had phoned to confide in him on a number of occasions so far. "I'm sure she's pretty frustrated as well. I could simply listen to begin with and as usual the conversation will come around to John."

"Is there any conversation that doesn't?"

The edge grating in Tony's voice had quickly resurfaced and Gene wondered if he should even bother trying to talk sense into his cousin. He sounded ready to murder the first person that dared suggest it. "What exactly was it he said today? I mean, you had to be expecting he'd find out about the club and use it to his advantage, so that couldn't be extent of the problem."

"Well since you've talked to Donovan already, you will have heard the news I passed along to him."

"The note you found in the will."

"And my conversation with Eleanor's brother."

In fact, Shane had reluctantly explained the sum total of what he and Tony had discovered so far, even the bits and pieces Tony had shared on his return from the compound and once Eugene had heard all of it, he'd been tempted to explain to Shane that speaking to Tony wasn't going to work. The past had only supplied Tony with proof positive his brother was a thief...convinced him that should he make the mistake of stepping back, history would repeat itself and John would end up with one more piece of Tony's life that didn't belong to him, only instead of a woman this time, it would be the twins. Almost as quickly as the thought entered his mind, Tony's words confirmed his suspicions.

"He's dangerous Gene. He's walking around with everyone believing he is their fucking savior, when in reality, he's a time bomb. He could hurt anyone and probably will as soon he's threatened."

"You're not really worried about what he'd do to Marlena."

Tony sighed. "I have every reason to believe now that he was in some way responsible for the death of his first wife as a result of her being with me. That, along with the fact the children he was expecting were in fact mine. You tell me you're not worried about Marlena's safety if any of what Lorenzo Torricelli told me is the truth."

"But he's completely in the dark about all of …"

"Yes, I realize John doesn't know yet, but there's a loose cannon out there in the form of my lovable cousin, just chomping at the bit for John to learn the whole lurid story."

"Or at least the part of it where you and Marlena slept together."

"Precisely."

"And here all this time," returned Gene in a dry tone, "I thought you'd be the one _chomping at the bit_ to tell him."

A rude snort erupted through the line. "Believe me, if I knew of a way to bring back her memory about those years at the compound, I would."

"What if she were to read the letters?"

"Oh hell," Tony laughed, obviously assuming his friend's proposal to be a joke. "You can't be serious."

"Perfectly."

After a brief moment of silence, Tony said, "what is it you're contemplating, exactly?"

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life. You already know that, but I don't see what that has to do with…" Tony's voice trailed off and there was a complete lack of anything; sound, breath…not so much as a curse word even.

"Tony?"

"Are you saying to me that you'd be willing to…" He seemed to having a difficult time wrapping his mind around the idea that Gene would take such a risk for him. "I don't know what to say."

"Well, a simple thank you has been known to work in the past."

Tony ignored Gene's attempt at humor, his mind elsewhere as the possibilities and consequences of what his cousin was proposing began to take hold. "As much as I appreciate the offer, I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise, what with Colin. The last thing we can afford right now is anyone becoming suspicious about your involvement with me."

"But that's the beauty of this. No one is going to suspect, not even Marlena."

Though Tony did his best to choke back his snort of laughter, it was still evident. "So you're just going to show up at her door out of the blue with the letters and what? Tell her that Stefano sent them to you?"

"That's not bad actually."

"Gene. This is _not_ funny."

"Tony look, she has no reason to believe the two of us even speak to each other and it's not completely out of the realm of possibility that those letters would find their way into my hands considering the past we all share. If I have to, I'll tell her I used my connections in an effort to help her recover her memories. I know her, she'll keep it to herself _if _those are the conditions I insist upon."

"I don't know Gene. She's changed," said Tony.

"Haven't we all," chided his cousin in return.

"I suppose." There was an air of chagrin in Tony's voice for the first time since answering the phone, and after another moment of silence, "you really want to do this."

He could tell Tony was still having trouble believing it possible that anyone wanted to help him, which only increased Gene's unease. The situation between Tony and his brother must be worse than even Shane feared. Each of them had far more pride than reason. Simply the idea of backing down was unthinkable and having reached this impasse, one both Stefano and Andre had to be drooling over, it seemed to Gene only one thing…or rather person could diffuse the situation…if it wasn't already too late. "I'm coming tomorrow. I'll need the letters when I arrive at the airport. And I'll phone before I leave with my arrival time."

"Okay."

The reply still sounded as though he wasn't completely certain. "You have my word…"

"That's not necessary Gene," came Tony's velvety accent quickly, smoothing away at least some of the lingering tension, "not between us."

Eugene nodded absently, as though Tony could see the gesture. "Good. And," he added as the thought occurred to him, "that being the case, I hope you won't mind explaining this to Shane."

Swearing under his breath where he sat, a thousand miles away on the other end of the line, Tony forced himself to stare at the nearly empty bottle of scotch in front of him for a few moments before answering. It could work after all. Possibly buy them more time and keep John from breathing down his neck at Echelon, and away from the twins. He and Shane were getting so close…to Andre, to all of their answers, but none of that would be possible if John continued his investigation, or worse, cemented a relationship with the twins. It had to stop. And considering their options, Eugene's solution didn't seem any crazier some of ones he'd been thinking about since his phone call earlier to Donovan.

"You realize he's not all that happy with me right now," Tony reminded his friend.

"Yeah, but he knows _you'd_ never suggest such a thing."

Tony's smile was wry. "True," he said almost to himself, but quickly added, "okay, I'll smooth things over with him as much as possible."

"And I'll see you tomorrow."

For the first time in days, Tony felt something bordering on optimism. "Yes, tomorrow…"


	54. Chapter FiftyThree

Melaswen  
Same day (April 2003 and EJ's memories of summer 2002)

Stefano neglected to meet him at the landing strip though he'd made the summons urgent.

EJ spotted the jeep, parked with its canopy rolled down, providing a clear view of the interior and Nicholas sitting in the driver's seat. There was no sign of Stefano. Doing his best to ignore his unease, he turned back to the controls, and focused on guiding the small but sleek jet onto the grass adjoining the runway and next to the other two twin-engine planes already tied down. Obviously the directive he'd received had precious little to do with sentiment.

_So what are you up to now, old man?_

As he shut down the engines he remembered his first visit to the island nearly a year ago, just after Stefano arrived to take up residence, permanently it seemed.

He hadn't been a member of that welcoming committee either. Course, at the time EJ hadn't expected personal attention from Stefano.

With an unconscious shake of his head, he pulled himself out of his seat and began to collect his luggage, all the while thinking about how drastically his life had changed in a year. He'd arrived ten months earlier as Stefano's young protégé, believing himself only distantly related to the old man and beholden to him for his upbringing…an education few young men could dream of and since then, time off to travel and indulge in his favorite hobby.

And then there was the affection Stefano had showered on him and the faith that was evident at all times. It was a situation all the more baffling once Stefano had made it known to EJ that his father was not in Stefano's good graces.

EJ had never met the man. Stefano had shared a few pictures with him and told him the identity of both of his parents, along with only one other fact…they'd abandoned him when he was only a babe.

It was not the kind of information a young teenage boy had the maturity to process.

And reliving any of that time in his life dredged up confusion. He'd not handled Stefano's revelation well, perhaps not surprisingly and without access to those responsible, he'd lashed out at the only person on hand, who in turn has shown enormous restraint in EJ's opinion. Despite his juvenile antics, Stefano provided him support, and it was only thanks to his mentor he'd finally come to terms with his feelings of inadequacy and the gnawing sense of loss that clung to him.

But now things were different. He controlled his emotions. No more being blindsided or allowing his insecurities to weaken him, or falling prey to the needs of others outside of what was in the best interests of the family. That had become his guiding principle and it was obvious how much it pleased Stefano…

_"You've enjoyed your time these last several months?" came the older man's question._

_It had been EJ's very first night on the island and he and Stefano sat in formal attire at dinner. When he'd made the request, Stefano explained it wasn't his habit since his arrival here but this was to be a special occasion. And naturally, EJ had been intrigued._

_"Very much so, and I'm grateful for the opportunity, sir."  
"Enough of that. You've reached your majority and you're an adult now. Call me Stefano," and then before EJ could argue, he changed the subject again. "You received the note before you heard the news about the accident?"_

_EJ had in fact received the message from Stefano only a matter of hours before his mentor's plunge off the Grand Corniche hit the wire services. He'd listened in the midst of driving from his latest stop on the racing circuit to the airport; Stefano DiMera killed in a car accident. Despite the words in his possession stating otherwise, it was still a trial believing Stefano was safe until EJ was able to see for himself. He'd been through this once before when Stefano nearly died after an explosion in Paris and being younger at the time and without recourses of his own, he'd been terrified. He'd be left all alone...again. Abandoned._

_The sight of Stefano's face once he'd reached the mansion gave him an intense rush of gratitude and relief._

_"Yes, the note arrived first."_

_Stefano smiled, looking thoroughly pleased with the entire situation and EJ had to temper his impatience. The old man's stubbornness defied belief at times. If Stefano chose to share his thoughts, he would, and if not, badgering him would at the very least be a waste of energy._

_At the other end of the table, Stefano studied him over the rim of his wine glass. "Of course you are curious to know the reasons I've done this." He used the glass to gesture at the room around them. "Why I found it necessary to come here."_

_Again, EJ stopped himself from finishing what Stefano left unsaid and as he waited for the conversation to continue, ladled up another spoonful of soup. It was delicious…and seasoned in a way that was unmistakably familiar. It seemed Stefano meant his stay here to be quite lengthy since he'd brought his chef along with him._

_"Ah, my boy," said Stefano finally, "you have matured these last few years. You keep your own counsel now." He nodded with satisfaction._

_EJ accept the compliment with a smile, but internally, he fumed. He was still in the dark as to what this was all about and couldn't help suspecting Stefano meant to brush him off as he'd done numerous times in the past, especially when it came to any discussion of the future, or the rest of the family._

_In his experience, Stefano shied away from any conversation dealing with that he held most dear, and never more so then when it involved his children._

_EJ was aware that Stefano's eldest still languished in a coma, tucked away safely in an exclusive clinic in Switzerland. Safe from whom was one of those subjects EJ had discovered was off-limits. Officially, the cause of Antony's malaise was at best, vague and a subject that Stefano evaded, even if the context of the conversation had nothing to do with Tony specifically. Given how dismal the outlook was for his recovery, EJ couldn't really blame Stefano. It had to cause him pain just to hear Tony's name mentioned. And that theme played out frequently as it seemed the old man had no shortage of dealing with regrets when it came to his children. He'd lost so many of them. Buried three of his daughters and watched another son locked away in prison. Having witnessed the agony Stefano suffered, EJ marveled at his resilience, his will to keep going._

_Still, he'd not lost everyone._

_There were still two more sons; Benji, who EJ had met once and got the impression had no desire to be a part of the family, and, of course, young Elvis._

_The latter was such a precocious charmer, and it was easy to see aspects of his father's personality emerging in the youngster already. Stefano visited him yearly but it was EJ who'd developed an affection for the boy while in school at Oxford and instead of jetting off to ski resorts with his friends, often spent his holidays with Elvis and his 'guardians.'_

_It was Stefano's description._

_According to him, neither adult was related to the boy despite the fact they both dotted on him shamelessly and adored him, and the love, from what EJ could see, was mutual. And they'd welcomed EJ into their fold as well, wholeheartedly._

_Despite that, and the warmth of Stefano's reassurances, the situation struck EJ as odd._

_The couple were nurturing, bubbly, and above all, eccentric. They were everything that EJ imagined the boy's father would find unacceptable as the role models he'd choose for his son and yet whenever EJ brought the subject up to Stefano, he was told that appearances could be deceiving and after a while EJ had simply dropped the subject and concentrated on getting to know his cousin; teaching him to ride and shoot and a hundred other pastimes a boy needed to experience. They saw each other monthly as Elvis lived in a tiny town only a few hours distance and by the time EJ's studies at St. Antony's were completed, they'd grown close, almost like brothers._

_And how crushed was poor Elvis when EJ graduated and thanks to Stefano, immediately presented with the gift of a year off to explore the continent, though, the younger DiMera's mood brightened considerably once EJ explained that he'd be more than welcome to come visit, and so see France and Italy for the very first time._

_His guardians hadn't been nearly so pleased, but neither had they objected. It seemed they trusted EJ…at least more than they trusted Stefano, not that they ever breathed such a thing aloud and yet instinctively, EJ sensed they judged him to be a dependable companion for the boy. And more important to them, that he'd never allow Stefano to take Elvis away, and for all his obligations, EJ wondered if they could be right. Thankfully, Stefano hadn't made such a request of him yet and he prayed that situation never arose. After four years of getting to know them along with their young charge, he found idea of letting Susan and Edmund down weighed on his heart._

_"And did you and young Elvis employ to advantage your month in Venice?"_

_Stefano had an uncanny ability to divine one's thoughts and even after two decades, the talent could still unnerve the younger man but he'd learned to disguise any reaction, this time behind a lopsided smile. "Yes, we did indeed. Elvis has decided that he will be the one to save Venice and engineer a brilliant plan to keep the city afloat."_

_Stefano's smile in return was indulgent. "I do believe the boy has it in him."  
EJ nodded but decided it was time to see if a bit of prodding would work. "And is that the purpose you had in mind…why you brought me here? To question what progress Elvis is making?"  
Stefano's smile remained but now it had more of a sly quality. "You know it is not."_

_In between bouts of panic that he'd arrive to find the note was a fraud and Stefano dead, EJ had spent the endless hours on his way to the island racking his brain about what was going on and why. Obviously, there was at least one person Stefano wished to fool but having such a sketchy idea of the details, especially where it concerned Stefano's immediate family, it felt an exercise in futility though no more than chess had once upon a time, and that was Stefano's overriding passion…chess which as EJ reminded himself, was really nothing more than a puzzle where one needed to divine the opponent's strategy._

_"Okay, not Elvis. And you've gone to great lengths to disappear completely, hoping to draw someone out would be my guess."  
Stefano sat back in his chair and set his glass down to clap his hands. "Ah, yes, very good my boy, very good. You used your time wisely on the trip out here."  
"Who is it?"  
For a moment, Stefano eyed him cautiously. "I will get to that in a moment but first I have news…splendid news, in fact. Tony is awake and out of his coma."_

_"Sir…I mean…" but he couldn't bring himself to call Stefano by his given name, "I am so pleased for you. Congratulations," he said, offering his glass in a toast to his cousin's continued health. Once they'd drunk in celebration and were seated once again, EJ voiced the question that immediately came to mind. "I have to admit I'm rather baffled considering only a few months ago, you said there was no hope of a recovery…"  
"A miracle, my boy."  
EJ stared at the older man who had never in all the time EJ had known him professed to believe in miracles and certainly didn't count on them happening based on his behavior. "Yes, of course."  
"With a little help," added Stefano after a brief silence.  
"From?"  
"The person who was responsible for putting him in the state to begin with."  
"I thought it was the result of…" EJ had to search his memory, "some kind of blood disorder?"_

_"No."  
Even more confused, EJ stared back.  
"That was the diagnosis Tony received, true but I only shared that information with a few people," said Stefano, with concern now, "who knew his location…"  
"Being in Switzerland instead of that gravesite."  
"Yes, and I distinctly recall that they were asked to keep it to themselves."  
"Including Susan?"  
The name wasn't the one Stefano was expecting but he covered his surprised quickly. In fact, his face was suddenly a mask…impenetrable which only served to pique EJ's curiosity, but he waited for Stefano to respond.  
"That is where you heard it from…Susan?"  
EJ nodded. "We were out on a picnic one day and Elvis and Edmund went off somewhere, I don't remember but it was just Susan and I and out of the blue, she brought up Tony. It was a peculiar conversation too."  
"How so?"  
"I got the impression that she knew him…well." EJ took a second and thought back to that late spring afternoon only a few months previously, lounging about on the blanket beneath an old gnarled oak that was tired and only beginning to sprout its new foliage for the season. He'd eaten a prodigious lunch and he and Susan were sharing a cup of tea. As usual, they talked of Elvis, only this time, it had nothing to do with his prowess at cricket or the marks he was getting in school, but his health. Remembering all of this, EJ looked at Stefano. "Thing was, her concerns over his illness weren't related to Tony or whether he'd recover…"  
"Wait." Stefano held up his hand. "She knew he was alive?"  
"Yes," said EJ, realizing too late this was a secret Susan was not supposed to know.  
Stefano scowled, but waved at EJ to continue.  
"She just seemed worried at the prospect that Tony's condition was genetic and might in turn, effect Elvis someday."_

_For a long, drawn out minute, Stefano said nothing. He just sat and mulled over EJ's words until finally, he picked up his wine glass and twirled it between his fingers and despite not understanding how any of these pieces fit together, EJ could still see that was exactly what the older man was doing…adding this new data to the puzzle and not until he was satisfied with the results did he acknowledge EJ's unstated question._

_"It is not genetic and so my young Elvis is not in danger."_

_That should have eased his mind, but it didn't. "If it was not genetic…"  
"It was created to look that way, and yes," said Stefano, his face somber now, "it was deliberate. He was poisoned so as not to raise any suspicions, especially Tony's until it was too late and the damage was done."  
"And there was no one else around him at the time that would have seen the signs?"_

_The question caught Stefano off guard and he glanced up to meet EJ's steady gaze and for an instant, EJ swore he saw guilt. Not so strange for a father, but there had always been a certain reserve when Stefano spoke of Tony. The warmth that came naturally when mentioning his other offspring simply didn't resonate when Tony's name came up and EJ had assumed for years it was a defense mechanism. A way for Stefano to deal with Tony's illness. And perhaps it was. EJ had no basis for assuming it was caused by bad blood, other than his own instincts and the way everyone in the family organization avoided discussing Tony. It was as though he was already dead…or disgraced._

_"The only person Tony would have allowed in at the time was not interested," said Stefano after a short awkward silence, his tone stiff.  
And EJ gave a nod to indicate he understood but he didn't say her name. Some ghosts were better left to rest uneasily and unspoken and besides, Kristen wasn't the point here. "I take it, the person responsible for doing this is still a threat."  
"I'm afraid so."  
"And yet, you just told me this mysterious enemy restored your son's health."  
"Yes."_

_EJ knew he was being tested and his heart quickened ever so slightly at the challenge. This was a constant with Stefano, one he'd grown fond of. He'd discovered early on that he and the old man shared more than a fancy for power. In fact the rush that came with surprising Stefano and surpassing his expectations had become somewhat addictive._

_"He wants something out of Tony."  
Stefano raised an eyebrow and waited.  
"And whatever it is, the results will harm you and this family."  
"Possibly," agreed Stefano, "Though in using my son this way, I fear Tony will be the one made to suffer the brunt of those sins for which he was not responsible."  
"Then why…"  
"Am I not at his side?" Stefano shrugged and then shook his head. "He'll not listen to me, EJ and even if that is partially my fault, I cannot change the past now." He stopped to finish the rest of the wine in his glass. "It is time for me to step back and protect the rest of the family and hope that Tony can undo the damage that I caused all those years ago, or at least, survive it."  
The latter part of the sentence had an ominous ring to it. "What damage?"  
But Stefano brushed his question aside. "That is not important and out of my hands. Salvaging the rest is what you and I," he said, nodding at EJ, "must concentrate on and that is why you are here tonight, my boy. It is time."_

_EJ felt flush suddenly, and not certain if it was the result of fear or expectation. "For?"  
"To have truth between us."_

_When Stefano started using words like truth, EJ couldn't help but brace himself as it usually preceded hearing news of a painful nature._

_"The truth about what?"  
"You." He could see Stefano searching his face for a reaction but EJ stared back, willing himself to breathe normally and so Stefano continued, " And the man I told you was your father."_

_Now EJ looked down at the table and found his wine glass, still half full. He picked it up and drank the rest in one swallow, wishing it was scotch. "Andre." He sighed. "He's the one responsible for whatever is going on…for Tony's condition..."  
"EJ."_

_There was command in Stefano's deep voice, as always but something else too that EJ knew he'd never heard before from the old man…respect, and when he glanced up, EJ found it etched plain to see in his face, as though it was an everyday occurrence. Setting the glass down, he sat back and listened._

_"Andre is the culprit here but this is not just about Tony as you realized earlier. Tony was the first, and thanks to me, the easiest target but it will not stop there. Andre won't consider he is done until he's wiped out the rest of his competition as well."  
"Elvis…" murmured EJ, understanding now why he was kept so far away.  
With a deep sigh, Stefano nodded before he said, "And one other."  
"Your daughter in Salem."  
But Stefano shook his head. "No, I couldn't convince her that she needed my protection and I certainly couldn't explain why. She'd never understand, especially after that mother of hers poisoned her mind to all things DiMera."_

_The indictment made EJ frown. Celeste had practically raised him as a boy when he was living at Maison Blanche and though a hard mistress at times, he adored her and missed her something fierce when he was sent off to school. To hear that she and Stefano were not on good terms bothered him. He understood that she loved her daughter and felt she was protecting her but it was foolish to think she could keep any of Stefano's enemies at bay._

_"But Tony is there now," explained Stefano, "and he will not allow any harm to come to her."  
"Then Benji."  
Now Stefano truly did look pained and as the main course was still to be served, he stood up, taking his wine glass to pace back and forth behind his chair.  
"No. Benji is safe without me, you see."  
"Because of his handicap?"  
"Yes."_

_Stefano didn't elaborate but EJ was still left with the feeling that Benji's safety had nothing to do with the fact he was deaf._

_"You still don't have any idea," asked Stefano after the silence took over the room again and EJ's head snapped up to look at him.  
"No, I'm afraid not," he admitted, feeling something of a fool all of the sudden since apparently Stefano had expected him to figure it out and then without preamble, the old man strode the length of the room and stopped beside him, his arm resting on the back of EJ's tall chair. He gazed down at him with a look that EJ simply could not fathom._

_"It is you."  
EJ could feel the stillness in the room grip him. "I don't understand, sir."  
"You are the one EJ, the one Andre would do anything in this world to find and destroy, only, thankfully for the moment, his does not realize you are a threat."  
"But you said…" He could feel cold needles of fear prickling along his neck.  
Stefano merely gazed back at him, a strange warmth in his dark eyes.  
"But it was you who explained that he and my mother abandoned me. Why…"  
"I'm sorry for that lie of necessity but I couldn't risk your life, not after I found he meant to win by wiping out the competition, one by one. If he ever learned of your existence…" Stefano's voice faded now, uncomfortable with imagining the possibilities. "No, this way your safety is assured…as long as he believes you're his son."_

_Possibilities swirled in EJ's mind hearing Stefano's confession but he wasn't going to jump the gun. "I need you to tell me what that means, exactly."  
"It means you were never Andre's child," said Stefano with patience that was exceedingly rare for him. "You are mine."_

_Lifting his eyes to meet Stefano's, he searched for confirmation in the older man's gaze to match the confidence EJ heard in his voice and realized it had always been there, even from the time he was a small lad, eagerly waiting a visit from Stefano who would arrive unannounced more often that not. Come barreling into the old plantation and spend months at a time. The memories were among the happiest of EJ's life as it was just the three of them; he and Stefano and Celeste. Stefano never brought any of his children along._

_"If you are my father, then who…"  
"Was your mother?" Stefano looked down quickly as though to hide his thoughts and EJ knew instantly that whoever she was, her connection to Stefano wouldn't shed a kindly light on this man who'd just confessed to being his father._

_"I'm sorry my boy but your mother is…was lost…"_

_"Lost…" The description stuck EJ as a euphemism. Evidently, Stefano preferred to avoid any explanation of what became of his mother. "Lost as in she picked up and hightailed it as far from you as she could get, or lost as in dead…like the mothers of all your other sons?"_

_EJ could see his father's patience begin to fray at the edges, but even with this provocation, Stefano struggled to remain calm. "She lost her mind and tried to take you down with her." He faced his son and the anguish burning deep in his eyes transfixed EJ in spite of his doubts. "And yes, I am the one responsible for the state she ended up in and the fact that you grew up without her."_

Ten months later, EJ still hadn't decided which scenario was worse…believing himself the child of parents who'd abandoned him, or knowing he was the child of a father who had, it seemed, driven his wife insane. Stefano had offered to provide more details but EJ knew he wasn't ready for that. Suddenly the floodgate to his past was wide open and quite frankly, he found the idea of learning anything more petrifying after their conversation that night, and it wasn't getting any easier with time. Course, being that Stefano remained hidden away on the island had allowed EJ to go on with his life by ignoring this particular problem, which was exactly what he'd done.

He would have continued right on doing so too except for the summons to return.

From the air, the landscape of the island was being transformed but on the ground, riding along beside his one-eyed former trainer, EJ found the scenery unaffected, still wild and threatening to swallow up any signs of human encroachment.  
"So, he brought you out here for a holiday as well?"  
"Holiday." Nicholas turned and spat out the driver's side window. "Anywhere in the vicinity of your old man isn't my idea of time off."  
"Or shuttling me about."  
That got him an indifferent shrug. "Until I get off this rock, you're an improvement on him."  
"That's not what you used to say," EJ reminded him dryly, remembering all too many sessions of Nicholas kicking his ass on the practice floor. "Did you bring Benji along with you?"  
"No."  
A simply statement of fact with no explanation, as usual. "Fuck, you're worse than Stefano."  
"And you're lucky I'm driving, junior, cause comments like that will only provoke me into messing up that pretty face of yours."  
EJ ignored the warning. "Where's my brother?"  
"Safe."  
"Nick…"  
"You think I'd go off an leave him if I didn't think so?"

EJ scowled at being admonished this way but he also knew Nick was right. The one part of his life, which had changed dramatically for EJ over the past year was his relationship with at least one of his siblings, Benji. That, and he'd grown even closer to Elvis, and more protective. If fact, the more he'd learned about Andre, the better he understood his father's fears and the measures he'd taken to protect all of them, especially Benji.

But doing so had been complicated. Benji's maternal grandfather fought Stefano tooth and nail. Under no circumstances was he going to allow Stefano or anyone connected to him access to the boy and the battle continued until Benji turned fourteen. That summer he and his grandfather went mountain climbing in the Alps. According to Benji, who was above Orion, and so couldn't see or hear, and couldn't have prevented the fall anyway, it was the hooks on the old man's harness that sheered off and he'd had to climb down to the bottom and wait until the helicopter arrived, with nothing left to do but cradle his grandfather's dead body for several hours in the cold.

When all of it was examined, the authorities found not only Orion's equipment had been tampered with, but Benji's as well. Once this was discovered, Stefano demanded the boy be placed in his custody. Benji, however had different ideas and turned out to be every bit as stubborn as his grandfather and his father. Also, Orion had planned ahead.

He'd set up a trust and a guardianship with a friend, and more important, been careful to keep track of all the evidence that proved Stefano responsible for Benji's handicap as well as the loss of his mother. With that information at hand, a Swiss court denied Stefano's petition.

Not that Stefano quit by a long shot and having lost the battle, the old fox resorted to trickery.

He hired Nicholas. Or at least that was the story Stefano fed EJ, who found it hard to swallow from the very beginning.

First of all the name wasn't his true one. EJ had no idea what that was, as Nick refused to share it with him and despite the flood of resources suddenly available to him, Stefano informed EJ the decision belonged to Nicholas. Just another oddity EJ couldn't decipher, along with the status the man enjoyed. Nick was officially a DiMera employee, but he didn't behave like one. He was allowed to do and say things no other employee got away with, and that included treating Stefano with a simmering contempt, one that frequently boarded on insolence.

So, an act perhaps? Meant to fool Benji into believing that Nick's primary allegiance was to him instead of Stefano?

It was possible, EJ conceded except that Benji treated Nicholas with more affection that EJ had ever seen him demonstrate towards Stefano, even when it was just a matter of discussing the old man. When they were actually in the same room, Benji treated his father coldly.

But not Nicolas. Benji trusted this man absolutely.

"If you believe he's safe, I assume you talked him and his new bride into either Venice or Crete."  
"As I've told you before, you're far too nosy, junior."  
Now EJ shrugged. "A family failing you seem to be readily familiar…"  
"Not to mention, fed up with."  
"What's he up to?"  
"On his honeymoon?" asked Nick curtly.  
"No, not Benji."  
Nick glanced over at him and stared long enough to make EJ think about reaching over to grab the steering wheel to keep them from veering off the narrow dirt road and plowing into a tree.  
"Contrary to what you and everyone else around this place believe," said Nick after another moment, "I'm not your confidant and besides, he keeps fewer secrets from you than he does from me."

"That's a crock."  
He watched the corner of Nick's mouth twitch, but the man didn't bite.  
"You needn't bother pretending Nicholas. If there's one thing I've learned this last year, it's just how completely in the dark his children are about what he's got up his sleeve."


	55. Chapter FiftyFour

Donovan Manor, England  
Same Night (April 2003 and Shane's memories of Nov 2002)

Shane glanced up from his book as the clock began chiming. He knew precisely the time required for a round trip from the manor to Peachy's cottage and back and Kim had now been gone three hours past the mark so either Jeannie had talked her mother into staying the night, or Kimberly was enjoying a spot of tea with Shane's former partner and confidant. And not that he begrudged her the visit but considering the manner in which Kimberly had behaved since coming back from her ride with Andrew, Shane couldn't help but feel anxious. She'd been aloof through dinner and then announced she'd be picking up Jeannie.

_"I thought…" Andrew bit his lip. "You asked if I'd do that yesterday and you'll only be here for a few more days."  
"I know and I am sorry Andrew but I'd rather go myself. Tonight."  
Shane's head shot up in surprise at this unexpected change in plans. "But Jeannie is supposed to stay with Peachy through tomorrow at the latest. She said the two of them were planning a trip into the city and it sounded as though she was quite excited to have the old girl show her about London."  
"All the more reason, I should be the one going if she is to be disappointed. Explain to her," Kimberly said politely but with firmness meant to head off an argument on the subject.  
"Well, perhaps you could go with them. I'm sure Jeannie would enjoy that and I know Peachy would."_

_The proposition seemed innocent enough but the look Andrew aimed at his mother was anything but. It was downright conspiratorial for an instant._

_"We'll see," was all Kimberly gave in response._

As the hours stretched on however, Shane's apprehensions over her continued absence headed in a more predictable direction, one that had little to do with Kimberly taking the opportunity to go sightseeing around London. He'd tried telling himself it was nerves. His argument with Tony this morning had set him on edge for the remainder of the day. Even eliciting Eugene's assistance hadn't helped as neither he nor Tony had phoned back as yet, leaving Shane to imagine the worst.

He'd been aware since Kimberly arranged this trip to England she was a fishing expedition. Between her brothers and John and that blasted husband of hers, she'd grown ever more skeptical of Shane's motives and running into Anna back in Paris had done nothing to curb those doubts. He probably should have expected this…except if anyone knew the extent to which Peachy kept things in confidence, it would be Kimberly.

Placing his marker, he set the book down on the end table and wandered over the mantle. The logs he'd thrown on the fire a couple hours ago were now only smoldering embers, a flicker here and there of blue flame dancing up from the glowing remains. After all these years, standing in this spot summoned up images...especially the first few weeks they'd spent together in this house before Emma reappeared…lying tangled up in front of the fire…watching the telly...Kimberly stealing his socks…

All gone. Burned to nothing but shadows of what he'd thrown away.

"You brought this all on yourself Donovan," he muttered. "If it wasn't for your blind, obstinate stupidity, she never would have married Philip."

The part he couldn't comprehend is how the marriage was still intact. Despite a separation nearly two years running the last time he checked, she'd made no move to divorce the man. In fact, he got the gist from some of the things Jeannie said that the two of them were getting closer again and Philip was pressuring Kimberly to move back in with him...for her safety. She'd resisted so far. With Kayla living in Los Angeles, she had family and a support system but it was only a matter of time before events in Salem deteriorated, and what then?

_"Handling this on your own, laddie, may appear your only option, but Kimberly is more than their mother. And she wants desperately to trust you…"_

_Shane leaned back in his chair and squinted at one of the windows streaked with the rain beating against it. He'd invited Peachy over for Sunday dinner and being the weather was seasonably unpleasant, they'd eaten at a table set in a cozy spot next to the large fireplace in the living room, passing the meal in mostly family related conversation; news about Kimberly and Jeannie along with Andrew at Cambridge and then some talk of old colleagues. He'd avoided bringing up the favor he needed to ask until they finished and were drinking their coffee._

_It required no small degree of finesse. He needed the services of a former agent he and Peachy had worked with on a job in the Middle East. He'd been unable to track the man down and than meant, confiding in his old partner…though whether she'd expect to hear the full story he wasn't sure._

_"I need your help locating Gregory Spiteri," he began. "I spoke to another mutual acquaintance and learned his last known residence was some tiny mountain village in the south of Spain but I've had no luck narrowing the spot down any further."  
Peachy's stare was as keen as ever. "Since you've come to me, I can assume that using the agency's computer system is out of the question?"  
"Unfortunately, yes."  
Picking up her cup and taking a sip of her coffee, her eyes continued to bore into him. "Gregory does take the occasional odd job," she explained once she'd taken a swallow, "but I must warn you Shane, his talents do not come cheap."  
"Yes, I do recall that stipulation," smiled Shane. "And thankfully, money isn't an issue."  
Peachy's glance grew concerned. "You're not tracking him down for an agency mission, are you?"  
"No," he said truthfully.  
"Would it have anything to do with a certain DiMera whose height and build is similar to Gregory's?"_

_Shane had expected such a question since age had done nothing to dull Peachy's edge and although she was retired, she kept abreast of what was going on in both the London and Paris offices. That and she spoke to Kimberly on a regular basis. She'd be well aware of Tony's reappearance and the impact it was having on the Bradys._

_"Are you certain you want an answer to that question?"_

_He wouldn't mind having someone to confide in but it would be a burden, one the older woman might not wish to carry around or hide from Kimberly._

_"Laddie…" There was a somber trace of disappointment in her tone but the worry lining her face left her looking sad, and it was obvious she was wrestling with a constructive way to frame the warning she meant to give him. "I'm here for you, always, but I won't sugarcoat my analysis so you'd best decide what you can live with before we go down that road."  
"About the DiMeras? Or the fact my ex-wife and her family won't like it?" She'd never held back when she felt he was using an assignment as a dodge or was getting in over his head.  
"Anything you do involving the DiMeras is bound to have an impact on her life."  
"Anything I don't do as well, I'm afraid."_

_Peachy's shrewd gaze was piercing._

_"What has he told you?"  
"Who?"  
"Your informant, whoever he is."  
"Enough…or should I say too much," Shane told her, thinking back to his conversation with Tony only a few days previously, after his Thanksgiving dinner in Salem, and as he did so, lifted his gaze to meet hers. "The bad blood between both families is about to flare up in a manner I fear could eclipse all that has transpired in the past twenty years."  
The gleam in Peachy's eye when confronted with a riddle was one Shane remembered well.  
"That sounds not surprisingly like Mr. Black's view of the situation," she observed, "so I'm not understanding the need to risk your career this way, to say nothing of Kimberly's trust."  
"What John has are suspicions, nothing more."  
"And this mysterious informant has provided you what? Incontrovertible evidence?"  
Shane's jaw twitched as it did when he was angry or doing his best to maintain a semblance of control. "Yes," he said simply at first and then added, "To an extent even he is unaware of presently."  
"So his defection wasn't by choice."  
"Quite the contrary actually and if Stefano were to see through his charade, the consequences he'd suffer would…"  
"Weigh heavily on your conscious."  
Shane's nod was stiff.  
She sighed at his admission, not looking surprised in the least._

_"It would be Drew you're talking about then."_

_The name was uttered with a certain amount of resignation on her part and for an instant Shane was tempted to let her misconception stand. It would keep her from figuring out the truth, in the short term at least. But deceiving Peachy merely to throw her off-track would be tantamount to admitting he couldn't trust her and that he wasn't willing to do. The fact was he did trust her implicitly and valued her advice, even when he knew he'd not enjoy hearing it._

_"It's not Drew and if he too is involved in this scheme Stefano has set into motion he's not make me aware of it so far."  
"But it is someone you know personally," she surmised, "and if I'm remembering correctly, there was a DiMera living in Salem when you first…" Her eyes widened but instantly she bit off what she meant to say, perhaps worried he might confirm her suspicions and he realized she wasn't any more certain than he'd been about saying it out loud._

_They sat in silence for the next several minutes so that the sounds of the crackling fire, and the rain, along with pendulum of the clock seeped back into Shane's consciousness._

_And he waited for her reaction._

_"You're aware of how Kimberly feels about him."  
"I just spent a week in Salem, listening to exactly what her whole family thinks about him," Shane said evenly, his frustration simmering just below the surface. "It would be impossible to ignore."  
"If you can trust me with this, surely you can trust her."_

_Such simple words but they cut Shane to the quick. This was his fault. He'd destroyed Kimberly's faith in him and worse, what faith she'd had in herself. He was the reason he couldn't go to her now and explain what was going on and it made him sick inside, sick with disgust and guilt and the knowledge that when she did learn what he'd done, she was liable to sever ties between them permanently._

_"My trust isn't the issue here," he explained as patiently as he could under the circumstances.  
Peachy gazed back, with a troubled expression, "Oh, Laddie, I fear the choice you're making is one you'll regret."  
"I regret it already."_

_That frank admission produced another awkward silence. Of all the people in his life, it was Peachy who knew him the best, knew that once he'd given his word, he'd practically destroy his own personal happiness to follow through on his promise. And she didn't bother with dissuading him right away._

_"I thought the Count knew Kimberly as well."  
"Yes."  
"Then talk to him. Explain…"  
"I'd be asking him to trade his life so that I could hang onto a woman who's not only married to someone else, but who may never forgive me for what I put her through."  
"And is nailing DiMera's father," she asked, waving her cup at him, "really worth this?"  
Shane frowned. "A few months ago I would have said no, but now?" He shook head slowly. "This won't just impact Kimberly's life but Andrew and Jeannie's. And every piece of information that comes to light is conjuring up a future as violent as the one the generation before them suffered through. I refuse sit back and watch that happen when I have the opportunity to put a stop to it."_

_"Handling this on your own, laddie, may appear your only option, but Kimberly is more than their mother. And she wants desperately to trust you."  
"But she doesn't," Shane replied. "To her, as with the rest of the family, Tony DiMera is a symbol, not a man. A symbol more powerful than her desire to believe in me, and I'm not blaming her for that."  
"You're not willing to accept that time heals, or accept her ability to forgive either."_

_"And if I were to do that and it gets Tony killed...after having already given him my word…tell me, how could either of us live with that?"_

It was the one question Peachy didn't have an answer for.

He could tell she hated the situation as much as he did but she'd not raised the subject with him since. In fact, once she'd put him in contact with Gregory Spiteri, they'd spoken quite infrequently. She'd gone so far as to avoid a dinner invitation when he and Kimberly arrived at Donovan Manner and though her aloofness pained him, he understood it was the manner she'd chosen to protect his secret. And he could only imagine the pitfalls an evening with the three of them seated across from each other would have provided. Still, her refusal hadn't fooled Kimberly apparently or maybe this was all paranoia on his part and Kim needed some time away from the men…

_Damn it Kimberly, what have I done to us?_

The phone in his pocket began to vibrate and he pulled himself together. It was Tony's number and instinctively, he steeled himself for the tirade he assumed was about to erupt.

"I'm not interrupting anything I hope," came the smooth accent, the slur at it edges so slight, Shane almost missed the implication. It was pretty early in the evening back in Salem, too early for Tony to be drunk and Shane's immediate thought was what else could have gone wrong since they talked earlier. He wasn't all that sure he wanted to know however and stuck to answering the question.  
"Nothing but a technical journal."  
"My, exciting fare you take along on vacations, Donovan."  
"Speaking of which, this _is_ my vacation, so if you're going to continue interrupting it, perhaps you could get to the point."  
"Touchy too this evening. Does that mean your day went off as splendidly as mine?" Slurred or not, Tony's sarcasm was rather difficult to miss.  
"Christ, what the hell did John do now?"  
"Well, as Gene pointed out to me, something I probably ought to have been expecting. He announced to Marlena I bought Echelon. In public."

The last two words erupted from the phone in a clipped staccato and though Shane sympathized to some degree, he was awfully tempted to remind Tony he'd been the one to interrupt his brother's anniversary party in order to announce his return from the dead and turn about did seem fair play. Despite the temptation, he stuck with, "Gene's right," which earned him a moment of blessed silence until Tony came up with a suitable retort.  
"It appears your wife's profession is rubbing off on you."  
"Ex-wife."  
Tony's laughter was mocking. "If you say so."  
"Is this phone call to complain about John's behavior or lecture me for asking Eugene to provide some assistance."  
"Believe it or not, it was to say thank you."  
Shane blinked. "You mean, you didn't insult him too?"  
"Well of course I did, but telling Gene to go to hell doesn't faze him in the least."  
"Maybe I should have had him call John too."  
"He wants to try speaking to Marlena."  
"About you?" Shane realized after the words came out just how horrified he sounded. Thankfully Tony ignored it, or was so drunk, he didn't notice.  
"Technically, I suppose it would be about me, but the premise won't appear as such."  
"And how is he going to pull that off?"  
"He'd going to take the letters I wrote to her."

Shane's jaw clenched tightly. This wasn't what he had in mind when he asked for Eugene's help and how the hell did either of them think it was going to improve the situation? "I'm not sure which one of you is crazier," he bit out finally.  
"That would be me," Tony replied in a flat, dry tone.  
"Really."  
"You wanted a way to defuse the situation…"  
"And showing Marlena proof you're just as bad as John says you are…how is that going to accomplish your aim precisely?"  
"Gene's not going to tell her he got the letters from _me_."  
"Oh, and of course, she won't assume that anyway."  
"No," said Tony with conviction that surprised Shane, "actually she won't."  
"But she will assume you fabricated the information they contain and that you're using Gene."

"_Or_ she'll remember."

That pulled Shane up abruptly and he realized that Gene's plan might just have a chance of succeeding…a slim one but if he pulled it off, at least a portion of the truth would finally be out in the open between Tony and his brother…one that John might not like but short of calling his wife's sanity into question, one he'd be forced to accept. "If she doesn't remember, she'll be even more suspicious of you," he reminded Tony after a moment of silence between them.  
"She thinks I'm running a whorehouse, Shane. How much more did you imagine it would take for her to look down that lovely nose of hers?"  
"And here I thought you didn't care about appearances," said Shane, carelessly ribbing his partner.  
This time Tony's silence held an air of menace. "You are treading on awfully thin ice, Donovan, considering Echelon was your idea."

_Or maybe I'm just as bloody sick and tired of this situation as you are._ But Shane was sensible enough not to voice his thoughts this time and managed to keep an audible sigh from escaping his lips. "In that case, I'll keep my fingers crossed that Eugene knows how to work magic along with all of his other hidden talents because what we need at this point is a miracle."


	56. Chapter FiftyFive

___When are you going to make up your mind  
When are you gonna to love you as much as I do  
When are you gonna make up your mind  
Cause things are gonna change so fast_

___Winter, Tori Amos_

England  
Lavinia Peach's cottage  
Same Night

"The lass is all tucked in, safe and sound."

Peachy had returned to the cozy sitting room. As in most of the older cottages, space was at a premium and upon purchasing this one she'd renovated and knocked down walls to dispel the claustrophobia…all except for this particular room. It was perfect just as she'd found it and was her favorite. A previous owner at some point or other had replaced the tiny, boxed windows with a set of French doors looking out on the south side of the house at a neglected garden she'd since restored to something of its former glory. In the afternoons, the room filled with sunshine and she'd sat and enjoyed many a spot of quiet, even on rainy days when the brightly painted walls and wood stove provided comfort. A haven it had turned out to be during her retirement. Settling down now in the overstuffed chair across from Kimberly, she reached for the teapot to pour them both another cup.

"And tomorrow the three of us will do the town. Live it up," she said with a bright smile, which Kimberly returned halfheartedly. "But tonight, I'd like to hear what is troubling you."

The concern in Peachy's voice was just as Kimberly remembered it and she yearned to unburden herself. After all, this was the one woman she knew she could trust with her doubts, who wouldn't judge her or express dissatisfaction if Kimberly dared to question anyone's motives, notably those in her family she was beginning to suspect had an agenda. She'd spent hours examining her own prejudices since her conversation with Anna.

Admittedly, her brothers' circumstantial evidence displayed Tony in the poorest light possible and despite all the fuss they'd made, he'd been innocent of kidnapping Hope. And they'd not been in any hurry to apologize either. Why were they so convinced…so determined? Was this some kind of transference, as Anna suggested to prove to themselves they were doing everything in their power to keep their families safe by nailing a DiMera, _any_ DiMera and being Stefano was out of the picture, they'd settle for Tony?

It might not be right but after twenty years of being hounded by the DiMeras; of losing loved ones and children and time that could never be replaced, Kim understood their motivation.

But Pop…that was a different story.

Ever since the day she'd learned about what transpired during Stefano's funeral and the reading of the will, she'd been unable to squash the tiny voice in the back of her mind telling her something wasn't right. Pop certainly had no love for Stefano but he'd treated the man's children with fairness. Whether it was to set an example, or genuine affection, he'd always welcomed them into the fish market and later, the pub, which made his sudden hatred for Tony all the more bewildering to Kimberly.

Naturally, both her brothers tried to explain it away…it was Pop's love for John who he still treated as a son along with his fondness for Colin. They told her that Pop felt Tony had corrupted the young man though from everything else Kimberly heard of her cousin, it sounded as though he didn't need much help in that department, and besides, there was the other problem neither Roman or Bo could categorize so easily…Pop's refusal to explain his behavior to anyone…even Ma.

Kimberly had to admit she was beginning to agree with Shane. Her father was hiding something and if she didn't know the man so well, she'd think he was ashamed instead of frightened as her brothers insisted.

And apparently, Shane had made an effort to speak to Pop and whatever the form of her father's refusal, it served to heighten Shane's suspicions.

Since their conversation several days ago in Paris, Kimberly realized she found many of Shane's arguments valid. And there were similarities she'd been ignoring too. So much of the evidence Bo and Roman gathered to convince themselves that Tony and his sister kidnapped Hope had been flawed, and so far the evidence they dug up to show him responsible for Colin's murder followed the same pattern. All of it was circumstantial and if he was innocent of the first offense, why not the second? What real proof did they have than he was guilty…other than Pop's virulent insistence that Tony was his father risen from the ashes to continue the old man's reign of terror.

Had Tony truly changed as much as Pop and her brothers and John claimed?

It was certainly possible. She had only to look at the direction her own life had taken to realize how wrong she could be about someone she thought she knew far better than she knew herself.

The problem was, Tony was someone she suspected she didn't know at all. But Anna did. In fact Anna knew Tony and his family to an extent the Bradys never had and that made her behavior over the last several months particularly revealing. She was covering for him. Kimberly was even more certain of it after their conversation in Paris…after hearing Anna's bitterness over the way Tony was being treated, talked about, ridiculed. More than her obvious sham of an engagement, it was Anna's sympathy that swayed Kimberly. Anna had never shown an abundance of that. She could be extremely loyal but only to those she trusted implicitly and Kimberly guessed that list was quite short.

Hearing Andrew's news earlier only made matters worse. It took her no time at all to jump to the conclusion that Anna had come to Shane and talked him into meeting Tony in Montreal.

A hand touched hers gently and her gaze flew up to meet Peachy's familiar and trusting countenance.

"I was quite relieved to hear you were making the trip out here," the old woman observed with a subtle prodding not lost on Kimberly, and not entirely sure how to respond honestly, she gave her friend a nod.  
"Did you come to straighten things out?" Peachy continued, "Or was it that you wished to speak to Shane in person…face to face?"  
Already on edge, Kimberly sensed a hint of chiding in the question. "He was beginning to avoid my phone calls, Peachy…"  
"And you knew," said her friend, in a kindly but sad way, "if you offered to bring his daughter for a visit, he'd be unlikely to put you off."

Kimberly bristled instantly at the idea she'd stoop to manipulating Shane in such a manner. After all, he was welcome in LA at any time, even when he'd arrived unannounced. On top of that, he knew perfectly well she was upset when she spoke to him about coming, and why, so merely the idea she'd pressured him into this was ludicrous except for the guilt she'd been feeling all week.

"Maybe," she admitted. "Nothing I say seems to get through to him lately and I'm well aware his children mean the world to him. I guess I was hoping if he spent time with Jeanie and Andrew, it would wake him up and impress upon him that he's putting their family at risk."

Peachy remained silent this time. She searched Kim's face for another few seconds before sitting back, waiting patiently for the younger woman to say her peace.

"I fear coming to speak to you about this was presumptuous on my part," Kim said and then hesitated, not quite sure how to broach the subject without putting her friend in a position where she'd feel torn. "But frankly, yes I'm worried and I've had two conversations over the last week that have led me to believe I have good reason to be."  
Peachy frowned. "With Shane?"  
"No…well, yes I've had arguments with him too since my father's heart attack but…" Kim eyed her friend and knew even if it was a long shot her input would be useful. "Do you by any chance remember Count DiMera's ex-wife?"  
Thoughtfully, Peachy took a sip from her steaming cup. "Blond…elegant…" her brows knit together, "If I recall correctly, she had a tongue that could strip the most resilient ego."  
Kim couldn't help but smile at the description. "That's her."  
"The jealous type too," added Peachy.  
"Curiously enough, that is what has me troubled."  
And this produced a look of curious interest in older woman's eyes. "You don't believe she has designs on the laddie."

"Oh no," laughed Kim, some of it aimed at herself for having considered the idea at all when she'd first run into Anna. "No, she is however displaying quite the protective air for a woman who is not only divorced but on the verge of marrying someone else."  
"Protective of Tony DiMera?" came Peachy's question, which sounded very non-committal.  
"Yes."  
"As protective as you've been of your ex-husband?"

Though it shouldn't have caught her off guard, the casual observation was like getting a glass of cold water thrown in her face. "Okay, that is true but…"  
"That is in your nature," said Peachy with a warm smile, "whereas the former Contessa displayed her narcissism openly."  
Kim's cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink at the compliment. "That's not quite how I was going to put it," she hurriedly explained. "I just know that Tony provided her a number of reasons to hate him, running off as he did and shipping divorce papers through the mail, saying cruel things to her in the letter he sent her that explained his decision, not to mention, marrying that harpy. Anna isn't the type of woman to stick up for any man who caused her that kind of grief."

"Unless she was still in love with him."

The words were said gently, in the kind of soft tone Peachy used occasionally when she sensed her point could be applied to the person she was speaking to as well as the person she was speaking about and sure enough, the comment made Kimberly squirm uncomfortably in her chair. "I guess that is what I'm suggesting," she agreed after an awkward moment of silence between them.

"Where did you happen to see Mrs. DiMera, by the way?"  
Kim set her cup and saucer down on the tray and unconsciously folded her arms across her chest. "She was at Shane's home in Paris when I arrived."

"I see."

While Peachy's manner was sympathetic, it was doing little to provide Kim much comfort or peace of mind. They'd been friends far too long and through too many situations where one or the other was forced to keep secrets for Kimberly to miss the extreme care Peachy was exercising, She wanted to help but obviously Shane had taken her into his confidence.

"Kimberly."  
She raised her head to find Peachy gazing back at her, a gleam of concentration in her weathered face and intelligent eyes that made Kim hold her breath.  
'The other conversation you mentioned, was it with Andrew by any chance?"

"Yes," said Kimberly, seeing no reason to pretend since he'd already brought up the subject with Peachy. "He told me that Shane was in Montreal at the same time as Tony DiMera this last New Year's."  
"And did he mention to you that Shane's trip wasn't work related?"  
Kimberly frowned. "You make that sound as though Shane traipsing off to speak to the DiMera currently toying with my family ought to put my mind to rest." As the words tumbled out of her mouth, she could feel her patience being sapped, as was so often the case lately whenever Shane's motives were in question.  
"I do understand your frustration with the laddie…" Peachy began.  
"But you can't tell me what he's doing."

Peachy hesitated, and Kimberly assumed that it was her way of acknowledging the reality of the situation but it lasted barely a moment before the older woman shook her head.  
"About Shane, no. But I can provide you with what I believe is news of a positive nature."  
"There is absolutely nothing about this situation that could wipe away the fact that Shane is providing aid and comfort to Tony DiMera, and is lying about it to me and every member of my family."  
"So you've come around to your brothers' point of view then, and John's, that the Count is a threat."

"I…" Kimberly meant to say yes, but she knew it wasn't quite the truth. She had plenty of reservations about Tony, but she had almost as many when it came to Bo and Roman and her father though she felt guilty the moment she admitted it to herself. "I don't know," she said finally.

"You asked me a moment ago what I remembered about the Contessa," said Peachy after a brief silence, "and there was one glaring reality I haven't mentioned as yet…the opinion she held of her father-in-law."  
Even without the benefit of their conversation so recently, Kim was also well aware of Anna's feelings for Stefano. "She despised him."  
"Exactly."  
"I'm not sure where this is leading if the man is dead."  
"Do you believe that he is?"  
Since Peachy could easily read the doubt in her eyes, Kimberly saw no reason to pretend and shook her head. "Given his tract record, not really."  
"And if the Contessa suspected that to be the case as well, or that Tony were involved with his father, would she show him the support you've indicated?"  
"I know she _wants_ to believe in him, but that doesn't make him innocent."  
Peachy cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "Innocence never seemed part of his make-up…"  
"No," Kimberly agreed quickly with a wry smile. "It most definitely was not."  
"What if I told you that after Andrew came to speak to me, I discovered the reason Tony DiMera was in Montreal last New Years was to get married?"  
"To who?" breathed Kimberly, thoroughly shocked at the news.  
"His ex-wife."  
"He married Anna in secret?"

Peachy nodded and then waited patiently while Kimberly considered the implications.

_Of course._

She'd known Anna's engagement was a farce as soon as she'd heard about it, and practically right on the heels of Tony's reappearance. How many years had this guy been chasing Anna according to Carrie and suddenly at precisely the instant her ex-husband turns up alive, she accepts his offer but continues to postpone the date set for the wedding. It was all the more suspicious when Carrie confided in her aunt that Anna's husband-to-be was an old friend of Tony's from when he'd lived in Europe. And Shane…

"He took Anna to Montreal, didn't he?"  
"I believe so, yes," replied Peachy, not bothering to ask whom Kimberly was talking about.

The women gazed at each other and Kimberly could feel her eyes begin to burn in earnest now. "Anna wouldn't do this to help him to trap Tony," she murmured, not realizing at first she'd said it out loud until Peachy set her cup down on the table and reached over to do the same with Kimberly's, easing the saucer out of her grasp so she could take the younger woman's warm hand into her older, wrinkled ones.  
"You spoke to her a few days ago, you said." Peachy's penetrating eyes bore deeply into hers. "What did your instincts tell you?"

Anna's voice in her ear was still there, especially the pain she'd let slip…

_…you have a tangible, amazing reminder of what the two of your shared together and what it created instead of the constant reminders I'm faced with every single time the subject of my ex-husband is brought up by you or any other member of your family. You tell me how that would feel if you had to deal with it on daily basis, especially if it came from your own daughter who in my case, is being told by her father on every occasion he is able to fit the subject in, what a monster I was married to once upon a time."_

_It's true,_ thought Kimberly, letting herself believe it completely now and the realization opened a floodgate. She could no longer contain the emotions, the hope reawakening in her heart. It was bursting and she barely felt Peachy squeeze her hand, or the tears streaking down her face. "She's helping both of them."

Peachy didn't confirm her statement except to smile and it beamed in the room, warming it with a kind of heat the tiny fire in the grate couldn't compete with.

"Oh Peachy, I was so afraid that he…"

"I know dearie." And with that, her cool practicality was discernable once more. Things were on the right tract but discussing it further would lead to questions she couldn't answer. "Now." She tugged on Kimberly's hand, and helping her to her feet, Peachy walked her briskly to the door leading to the hallway. "I want you to get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow is going to be exhausting enough for all of us thanks to that scamp of yours." She gave Kim a quick hug and kiss and with a gentle push, sent her off in the direction of the guest room.

* * *

Salem  
DiMera Mansion  
Same night

The study was dark except for the dying fire that cast flickering shadows and light across the floor, the alternating flashes gleaming against the black leather of Tony's boots. He lounged in the old leather chair directly in front of the mantle. In one hand, he was balancing his empty glass and turning it in his fingers as he stared into the embers. In the background, a cd played. Occasionally, a familiar melody would cut through the haze in his mind stirring emotions and old memories.

He was good and drunk.

In his condition, he suspected he'd insulted both Gene and Shane to a degree that would probably require apologies tomorrow. God, how he wanted to call Anna…to imagine the way her eyes would light up when she answered the phone instead of having to see the disgust in Marlena's eyes replay itself one more time in his memory.

"I don't _want_ to fucking care," he hissed at the fire, which simply hissed back at him as it settled and what was left of another log disintegrated into ash.

He'd spent several hours trying to drink the images away and after consuming an entire bottle of scotch, he wasn't any closer. _Like it's ever worked before, you fool._ And then there was Gene's plan which had Tony almost believing this mess could be over in twenty-four hours, at least the part requiring he keep up this charade with his children's mother, though if she did remember, he'd still have to explain to her that she couldn't share any of it with either Cassie or Rex, and neither could John. He had a good idea how that would go over.

And not that Marlena getting her memory back would solve his problem with Anna.

Damn it, he'd promised her that whatever games his father had up his sleeve, it wouldn't come between them. Except this one was his own doing. Tony knew she'd recognize that fact immediately too and call him on it and playing on her jealousy wasn't going to sidetrack her, not when it came to Marlena. Trying to explain she had no reason to feel insecure in light of the twins would be rather like trying to explain quantum physics in ten easy steps...an exercise in futility…

_"I don't suppose you'd like to try that one over again."  
Tony glanced from the letter in his hand over to Anna where she was sitting behind her desk at Anna DiMera Designs. "Perhaps I should translate."  
"Don't treat me like an idiot," she snapped at him.  
Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Fine darling." He turned and set it on her desk, meaning to leave it for her to reread on her own but she set her hand on top of his to keep him from pulling away. "Okay, now what?"  
"What is the matter with you today?"  
"Nothing," he said, his patience running thin now.  
"You've been a beast since you woke up this morning."  
"Me? How about you and the, 'it's all your fault I slept late this morning because you kept me up all night?'"  
"Well, you did."  
Tony glanced down at her hand that had begun caressing his. "Next time, my darling, perhaps you ought to warn me you have a meeting at such and early hour."  
"Then you'll make me go to bed early."  
"We did go to bed early."  
She couldn't help snickering at the memory. "You're impossible, Tony DiMera, you know that, don't you?"  
"So I've been told," he reminded her, slipping his hand from beneath hers and giving it a pat before he went to leave.  
"Wait a minute."  
"Now what?"  
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Read me the letter again, please…"  
"You have a secretary for that."  
"True but he doesn't have your lovely accent or your business acumen."  
"How come you use words like that but you need me to repeat that silly paragraph that amounts to no more than we're late on providing the order that was promised and now they're…  
"Subtracting the five percent that was agreed upon in the contract, yes, I know."_

_Though still sitting behind her desk, she'd moved the chair back far enough so he had a perfect view of her legs, both quite shapely with one crossed over the other and since she'd worn a shirt with a rather provocative slit up the side, he knew that another inch further were the straps holding up her silk stockings._

_"You don't need me to read the bloody letter." And now she pouted, very prettily too he had to admit. "You're shameless, my dear."  
"I know," she grinned and then jumped up. "Lock the door."  
"Like that will stop Calliope? She'd just pound on the damn thing until someone opens it or break it down herself." In spite of his complaints, he strolled over and flipped the lock on the handle._

_When he turned back to her desk, he found her sitting on top of it. Minus the skirt._

_"My, my," he murmured, leaning his back again the door and just admiring the view. "I see you've made a remarkable recovery from staying up all night."  
She'd begun unbuttoning her blouse now, slowly, one button at a time to reveal a lacy black bra that accented her creamy skin and already had his heart pumping as he remembered the taste of her on his lips. With her silk blouse draped across her back, and her hands flat on the desk, she was irresistible. "My darling, I think in another life you must have been a siren."  
Her green eyes were half closed though he could see her gazing seductively at him from beneath her long lashes. "As in the Iliad?"  
"Close," he told her, taking his time and soaking in every inch of her sinfully luscious body. "They tempted Odysseus and his crew on their way home from Troy and you, my Anna…oooh, you could tempt any man to do whatever it was you desired."  
She reached over to take his hand and pull him closer. "Anything?" she whispered and the husky timber of it sent a shiver through him.  
Tony closed his eyes and with a sigh, laid his head between her breasts. He wrapped his hands around her and drew her even closer, inhaling her warm, enticing scent. "Ummm," he murmured, "absolutely anything. You could make him beg you to drag him down to hell if you wished."  
"Lucky for you, I'm only interested in your body."  
"Is that all," he said, letting her unfasten his belt buckle and then the button of his pants.  
"You know exactly what I want, Count DiMera"_

_He glanced down a second as she tugged his zipper down, and the grin on his lips was so delicious, she leaned over and brushed them with hers. Letting his eyes drift closed again, he met her kiss with the hunger he'd lived with since the day he'd first met her. It never strayed far from his senses and he had to control himself when they were in public or the same room together because he suspected it was too easy to read in his glances. Sometimes it felt as though he were walking around with a sign plastered on his forehead saying 'I want to fuck my wife and never stop.'_

_Her lips drove him to distraction and the only cure he'd found was losing himself in the way her tongue swirled playfully in his mouth, a dance to rival even any other feeling he'd experienced in his life. He truly believed he could die a happy man if her lips were on his at that moment._

_"Tony…"  
"Um?"  
"Promise me something?"  
Long lashes swept up to reveal his dark melting eyes and the love shining in them brought tears to hers. "Anything." A ghost of a smile played on his lips.  
"If I end up in hell, you'll be right there with me."  
"Guilty conscious?" he whispered, amused.  
"Very."  
A mischievous twinkle appeared. "Heaven without you would be hell for me so lead the way, Contessa…"_

A knocking on the door startled Tony out of his stupor. "Yes?" he called.  
"It's me," came his daughter's muffled voice from the other side.  
He hated for her to see him like this. "Is there something you need, darling?"  
"No, I just wanted to say good night and let you know that we're both home."

_What kind of crappy father gets so drunk he can't face his children,_ he chided himself and dragging his body from the chair, he did his best to walk to the door and unlock it. She stood in the hallway, a sweet smile forming when he appeared. "I'm afraid I'm not in any shape for chatting," he told her honestly.

"That's alright, Daddy." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Sweet dreams."  
"You too, my darling." And he watched with an aching heart as she turned and disappeared in the direction of her own room.

_Gene,_ he thought, rubbing at his eyes and feeling generally lousy, _I need this plan of yours to work._

* * *

England  
Lavinia Peach's cottage

_She was back knocking on the door to Donovan Manor. She was certain that's where she was and he'd be happy to see her, despite the fact she'd arrived at this ungodly hour in the morning. He'd told her to come after all. No…that wasn't right, he'd asked her to come with him and she'd chickened out when her sight began to blur upon her arrival at the airport. It frightened her and so she'd run home…back to the market and her family but in the end her heart won out and here she was. She'd knocked once already and did so again, a little more vigorously this time._

_"Kimberly."  
He looked adorably ruffled as though he'd just gotten out of bed.  
"I'm here."_

_That's not right she thought…that's not what she'd said and Shane wasn't acting as he should have either but she couldn't remember all of the sudden what he was supposed to say. This dream was wrong but she didn't mind in the least. His smile was brilliant and it made her want to dance…grab him and spin him around she was so happy. __I'm home,_ she thought, _and he's waiting for me…he's been waiting for me all along, he just couldn't say it…_

_The raincoat she had on was a bit frumpy but as he stood in the doorway gazing at her, she began to feel a blush creep up her face. "Captain Donavan, if you're going to undress me, perhaps you could invite me inside first.  
"What?" He looked as though he were in a daze.  
"You're staring."  
"Oh yes…" He extended his hand to her and escorted her through the foyer and into the living room. There was no fire at this hour but she certainly didn't feel cold. Helping her off with her coat, he tossed it on the leather couch. "I thought you decided you didn't want this…"  
Her eyes were shining even in the gloom. "I just needed a little push I guess."  
"Push?" He frowned.  
She looked down to try and clear her head. "You can be formidable, Captain," she explained, a smile curving her lips unbeknownst to her. "And that is as confusing as it is enticing." She faced him again.  
"I don't want to frighten you, Kimberly."  
"I know, but you're as complicated as…"  
"You."  
She nodded, still smiling but he gulped with misery.  
"I'm going to screw this up."  
"We both will, but you can't let go of me, Shane." And his hand reached for hers…_

"MOM!"  
Kim woke with a start as her youngest jumped on the bed.  
"It's late. Peachy is downstairs making breakfast, hurry."  
And planting a kiss on Kim's cheek, Jeanie flashed her happiness and vanished as quickly as she'd come, though her giddy excitement remained behind like the most incredible gift Kimberly had received in years…


End file.
